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Presented    bT^V-S^y  S  \Ov  (S^X^V'^crA'Wo  Y^x 

BS  650  .M54  1901 
Miller,  Samuel,  1842- 
The  Bible  and  nature  versus 
Copernicus 


THE    UNIVERSE. 

( A  c cording-  to    Goiesis . ) 

T/ic  Earth  surrounded  by  the  Firmanicut 

containing  the  Sun  Moon  and  Stars. 

The    ]\(pors   tjcyond  the 

Finnament. 


THE 
BIBLE    AND    NATURE 

VERSUS 

COPERNICUS. 

A   SERIES   OP   I^ECTURES   IN   DEFENSE 

OF  SACRED  TRUTHS  DISCREDITED 

BY   MODERN   SCIENCE. 

Br  SAMUEL   MILLER. 

PREFACED   BY 

REMINISCENCES  &  REVERIES 
Of  the  Author. 

ILLUSTRATED. 


1901 


Copyrighted. 
igoi. 

By  Samuel  Miller 


CONTENTS. 

INTR  on  UC  TION:—  Motive  for,  (page 
and  Object  of  the  Work.  5—13 

MOTTO,   ''Non  Nobis  Soliimr  14 

CHAPTER  I.      Reminiscences.  15 

My  Ancestors.  J5 

Personal  Peculiarities.  19 

**Perpetual  Motion."  23 

First  Astronomical  Calculation.  26 

"Taking-  the  Sun's  Altitude."  27 

First  Effort  at  Self-conquest.  28 

The  Dawn  of  Hope.  30 

My  First  Great  Sorrow.  31 

Standing-  by  the  "Old  Flag-."  34 

Facing-  the  Enemy's  Guns.  36 

An  Unpleasant  Situation.  38 

The  Charms  of  Solitude.  40 

Adrift  in  a  Strang-e  Port.  42 

Asleep  on  Guard.  43 

CHAPTER  II.     Reveries.  47 

The  Champion.  48 

A  Dream  of  the  Ag-e.  54 


11  CONTENTS. 

A  Retrospection.  56 

Deacon  Prohi's  Son  "Will."  58 

''Cuba  Libre r  61 

"Placed  on  File."  64 

The  Nation's  Hope.  66 

Blind  Justice.  72 

A  Reverie.  75 

CHAPTER  III.     Reveries.  77 

Our  Savior's  Baptism.  77 

Mother,  Home,  Heaven.  80 

In  Charity.  82 

"Suffer  Little  Children—"  84 

The  Modern  Samaritan.  86 

The  Rescue,  and  the  Saved.  89 

Lazarus  the  Beg-g-ar.  91 

The  Lamp  Still  Burns.  94 

CHAPTER  IV.     Life  on  the  Farm.        97 

A  Perilous  Incident.  100 

Entering-  the  Lecture  Field.  103 

Fortune  still  Coy.  106 

Truth  of  Humble  Orig-in.  Ill 

In  the  Nig-ht  Watches.  113 

CHAPTER  V.  "Hig-her  Criticism."  117 
Author  Criticises  a  Hig-her  Critic.        118 

The  Doctor's  Reply.  122 


CONTENTS.  Ill 

The  Author's  Response.  125 

The  Doctor's  Ultimatum.  128 

The  Author's  Finale.  132 

Why  Disturb  Existing"  Conditions?  137 

LECTURES. 

CHAP.  VI.  The  Bible  r^  Copernicus.  141 

The  Flood.  146 

The  Sun  Stands  Still.  151 

The  Sun  Turns  Back.  156 

God's  Estimate  of  Our  World.  162 

Man's  Estimate  of  Our  World,  165 

Cannot  be  Pleasing-  to  God.  167 

The  Witness  of  the  Spirit.  168 

Our  Chief  Defense.  170 

Physical  Apparatus.  180 

CHAP.   VII.     Nature  2'^.  Copernicus.  181 

The  Refraction  of  Lig-ht.  182 

Counter  Refraction.  184 

The  Lunar  Eclipse.  189 

Celestial  Distances.  1% 

A  Transit  of  Venus.  198 

The  Sun  Spot  Paradox.  207 

CHAP.   VIII.    Nature  1-6.  Copernicus.  217 

Equation  of  Time.  217 


IV  CONTENTS. 

The  Aberration  of  hight.  222 

Stellar  Parallax.  22') 

Kepler's  Second  Law.  235 

Its  Fallacy  Shown  by  Diag-ram.  242 

A  New  System  Outlined.  245 

Universal  Gravitation.  248 

Conclusion.  254 

CHAP.  IX.    Introduction  to  Lecture,  257 

"How  the  Poor  may  become  Rich."  258 

A  Great  First  Cause.  264 

Man's  Free  Moral  Agency.  265 

Eternal  Life  the  Free  Gift  of  God.  276 

Christian  Conversion  a  Reality.  280 

A  Word  to  the  Young.  284 

CHAP.  X.         Religious  Faith.  287 

Is  the  Soul  Absolutely  Immortal?  2W 

An  Intermediate  State.  2% 

Immortality.  302 

Author's  Creed.  303 


INTRODUCTION. 


-c<?c- 


Anticipating  that  an  excuse,  if  not  a  di- 
rect apolog-y  will  be  deemed  in  order  for  my 
radical  departure  from  established  lines  of 
thoug-ht,  I  will  endeavor  to  make  such  ex- 
f  lunation  as  may  partake,  in  part,  of  the 
nature  of  both;  hoping-  my  fellow  men  may 
not  judge  all  unkindly  my  motives,  if  they 
cannot  commend  my  work. 

Early  in  life,  throug'h  hopeful  conversion 
to  the  Christian  relig'ion,  I  became  deeply 
impressed — yea,  fully  assured,  that  the  Bi- 
ble is  true.  But  as  I  grew  more  conversant 
with  current  lore,  I  found  that  some  branch- 
es of  physical  science  —  more  particularly 
that  of  Astronomy  —  w^ere  widely  at  vari- 
ance with  portions  of  Scripture,  and  that, 
in  consequence,  the  two  paths  of  knowledge 


b  INTRODUCTION. 

diverg-ed,  and  the  deeper  men  delved  in  the 
mines  of  scientific  research,  the  more  skep- 
tical they  became  of  scriptural  truth. 

This  g-ave  rise  to  the  thought,  which  lat- 
er became  a  life  purpose,  of  an  investig-atio.i 
of  this  important  matter;  believing*  that  if 
fairly  and  intelligently  pursued,  in  the  fear 
of  God,  and  with  an  eye  sing^le  to  his  serv- 
ice, it  would  lead  to  results  which  would 
tend  to  establish  his  word  more  perfectly 
in  the  hearts  of  men. 

Realizing-  at  the  outset  that  wealth  is  pow- 
er, and  that,  from  a  worldly  standpoint,  lit- 
tle could  be  accomplished  without  worldly 
means,  I  entered  the  field  of  invention,  which 
my  love  for  mathematics  and  mechanics  and 
the  liberal  spirit  of  our  patent  laws,  made 
specially  attractive;  hoping-  in  a  few  years 
to  g-ain  such  a  competence  as  would  enable 
me  exhaustively  to  investig-ate  the  subject 
nearest  my  heart,  and  g-ive  the  results  to 
the  people  from  the  rostrum,  without  com- 
pensation or  reward,  in  such  attractive  form 
as  would  command ,  both  their  attendance 
and  attention. 


INTRODUCTION.  / 

I  would  invest  my  theme  with  paintin;v-s 
worthy  the  pencil  of  a  Raphael  or  a  Titian; 
with  music  that  mig-ht  have  charmed  Arion 
and  his  retinue;  with  intricate  mechanism, 
whose  movements  would  reveal  more  fully 
and  correctly  the  wondrous  working's  of  the 
universe;  and  render  intelligible  and  effect- 
ive the  whole  with  that  persuasive  eloquence 
to  which,  in  the  exuberance  of  my  zeal  and 
young- manhood's  streng-th,  I  believed  I  was 
able  to  attain. 

Confining  myself  strictly  to  the  practical 
and  the  useful,  many  inventions  followed  my 
efforts  in  this  chosen  field,  some  of  which 
are  in  use  to-day.  For  some  of  the  more  im- 
portant ones  letters  patent  were  issued,  and 
desirable  business  connections  consummated 
for  their  introduction  and  sale;  and  at  times 
hope  beat  hig-h,  and  the  prize  seemed  within 
my  reach — only  to  recede  again  however,  or 
like  Dead  Sea  apples,  turn  to  ashes  in  my 
grasp. 

In  the  meantime  the  small  patrimony  with 
which  I  be]-an  had  nearly  vanished,  gray 
hairs  suggested  emphatically  the  flight  of 


8  INTRODUCTION. 

time,  and  the  unwelcome  conviction  asserted 
itself,  that  if  I  would  do  this  work  for  the 
Master,  I  must  be  content  to  pursue  it  in  a 
more  humble  way;  and  consoled  by  the  fact 
which  history  records,  that  nearly  all  great 
truths  have  come  to  the  surface  throug'h  pri- 
vation and  difficulties,  I  gave  up  the  unequal 
strugo-le  for  wealth,  and  addressed  myself 
directly  to  the  task  I  had  assumed,  with  the 
limited  resources  I  could  command. 

It  is  needless  to  speak  of  the  years  of  un- 
requited toil, — of  the  hopes,  the  doubts,  the 
fears;  and  later,  the  g-lad  sig-ns  of  the  com- 
ing* dawn;  sufficient  for  me  to  say,  that  my 
w^ork  had  at  last  reached  that  stag'e  of  de- 
velopment, in  which  I  thought  best  to  give 
it  to  the  public;  and  embodying-  the  results 
obtained  in  a  series  of  three  lectures,  the 
important  points  of  which  I  made  ready  to 
illustrate  and  demonstrate  by  the  assistance 
of  carefully  prepared  charts  and  physical 
apparatus,  I  came  to  New  York  City,  with 
money  earned  by  hard  manual  labor  rented 
an  eleg'ant  hall  in  a  Christian  institution, 
and  besides  newspaper  advertising*,  mailed 


INTRODUCTION.  9 

over  one  hundred  special  invitations  to  the 
learned  professions  and  the  press  to  attend 
my  lectures  on,  "  The  Bible  and  Nature, 
versus  Copernicus." 

None  but  reporters  came  to  hear  me  how- 
ever, and  that  their  account  of  my  work  was 
not  over-assuring'  to  the  public,  is  indicated 
by  the  following-  extracts  from  a  full  column 
article  which  appeared  in  one  of  the  leading- 
daily  journals  of  the  City: 

(From  N.  T.  Tribune,  Dec.  i8,  i8g6.) 
''The  last  of  a  course  of  tzuo  lectures  on 
'  The  Bible  and  Nature  versus  Copernicus, ' 
zvas  delivered  last  evening-  by  Sani  I  Miller, 
in  the  Assembly  Hall  of  the  'United  Chari- 
ties Building-,'  East  2 2d,  St.  The  first  of 
these  was  delivered  on  Wednesday  evening 
and  zvas  reported  in  yesterday' s  Tribune. 

''No  one  came  except  a  Tribune  re- 
porter and  tzvo  others;  yet  he  gave  the  lec- 
ture from  beginning  to  end,  just  as  he  had 
intended. 

"Last  nighf  s  attendance  zvas  a  repetition 
of  the  first;  and  zv hen  a  Tribune  reporter 


10  INTRODUCTION. 

entered  the  hall,  roz^js  of  empty  seats  greet- 
ed him.      Mr.  Miller  uas  i)i  the  side  room, 

aful  eame  out  a  moment  later. 

''There  was  nothing"  about  him  to 


denote  the  crank  or  fanatic.  He  g-lanced  at 
his  zvatch,  and  seeing-  that  it  zuas  fast  the 
ti7ne  for  beg'inning'  his  discourse,  he  took 
the  platform,  entered  upon  the  sub- 
ject of  'Nature  versus  Copernicus,^  and 
talked  at,  and  for  the  benefit  of  his  listen- 
ers, zuith  a  manner  zvhich  zuas  at  all  times 
earnest,  calm,  and  sincere.  If  blasted  hopes 
and  heartrending-  disappointment  bore  hard 
2pon  him,  he  never  shozved  it  —  the  zvhole 
situation  zuas  certainly  unique,  &c. — 

"The  lecture  zuas  interesting-  too, 

in  its  zuay,  —  Mr.  Miller  shozued  that  he 
knezu  Astronomy,  both  as  it  is,  and  as  he 
thoug-ht  it  oug-Jit  to  be;     d'C.   dc.'' 


Failin::^-  to  o-ain  an  mtelli^ent  hearing-  in 
New  York,  I  returned  to  my  home,  and  in 
January  follow in;^'  delivered  two  of  my  lec- 
tures before  fair  sized  audiences  in  the  city 


INTRODUCTION.  11 

of  Utica,  N.Y.,  but  failed  to  elicit  any  re- 
sponse from  those  versed  in  the  science  on 
which  they  treat. 

I  also  essayed  to  promote  my  work  in  va- 
rious directions  by  correspondence;  bnt  fail- 
ing- everywhere,  I  was  reluctantly  led  to 
conclude  that  the  age  I  lived  in  had  already, 
with  its  phenomenal  precocity,  absorbed  all 
the  knowledg'e  it  could  assimilate;  and  if  I 
w^ould  have  my  work  survive  this  period  of 
intellectual  exaltation,  I  must  reduce  it  to 
book  form,  to  await  the  calmer  judg-ment  of 
those  whose  steadier  flig-ht  may  yet  disclose 
to  them  the  truth  of  the  lesson  I  would  teach 
—  that  man's  wisdom  is  fallible,  and  that 
with  God  only,  is  perfect  knowledg-e. 

When  difficulties  have  environed  and  defeat 
has  saddened,  I  have  turned  for  fresh  hope 
and  inspiration  to  the  following*  words  on  the 
"True  Reformer,"  written  years  ag-o  by  the 
late  Charles  A.  Dana  : 

"  The  true  reformer  should  never  despair. 
Let  him  remember  that  error  alone  can  fail, 
and  that  the  trtith  he  is  serving"  can  only  be 


12  INTRODUCTION. 

obscured  for  a  season.  Does  the  world 
scorn  him  and  mock  at  hini^  as  one  by  one 
his  cherished  hopes  are  frustrated,  and  the 
labor  of  years  seems  frii  it  less  f  Hec  d  it  not^ 
noble  heart!  Thy  exceeding'  love  for  them 
that  thus  despise  th  ^e,  is  not  zuasted;  not 
vairi  thy  yearning"  to  bless  them  that  anszucr 
thee  with  sneers! 

''''It  is  not  for  the  day  thou  zuorkc  sty  but  for 
the  ages;  fear  7iot  that  the  agjs  shall  lose 
the  harvest  of  thy  deeds.  Commit  thyself 
to  the  Provide7ice  that  guides  all  things; 
faint  not  if  thy  bare  and  zveary  feet  are  torn 
by  brambles;  over  the  path  that  with  thy 
life  thou  beatest  out.  Humanity  will  come 
hereafter  in  triumph  and  in  joy!''"' 


Desirous  of  raising-  my  work  above  that 
purely  neg-ative  effort  whose  object  is  but 
to  question  antiscriptural  theories,  I  have 
concluded  to  supplement  the  scientific  por- 
tion with  an  evang-elistic  discourse,  address- 
ed more  particularly  to  the  toiling-  millions 
with  whom  I  have  always  been  identified. 


INTRODUCTION.  13 

and  to  whom  my  heart  g'oes  out  in  warmest 
sympathy;  indicating  in  plainest  terms  how 
they,  thoug-h  lacking-  in  this  world's  tran- 
sient possessions,  may  g*ain  the  true  Heav- 
enly riches,  and  in  peace  and  happiness 
enjoy  them  —  Forever! 

While  ne^it  to  God's  own  providential  aid 
and  guidance,  my  thanks  are  due  to  my  wife 
and  daug'hter  and  two  sons,  who  hive  so 
patiently  borne  with  me  throug'h  these  years 
of  unremunerative  toil,  and  by  their  kindly 
forbearance  have  assisted  me  in  making"  this 
production  possible,  yet  I  would  dedicate  it 
\o  future  g-enerations ;  trusting-  that,  "As 
pictures  owe  their  mellow  hues  to  time,"  so 
the  flig-ht  of  years  may  soften  those  sharp 
lines  of  contemporary  intolerance,  which 
would  rele^*ate  to  the  shades  the  results  of 
my  life  effort  to  demonstrate  that  between 
Nature  and  the  Bible  there  is  no  conflict. 


'' NON  NOBIS  SOLUM,'' 

' '  Love  thyself  last  —  cherish  those  hearts 

that  hate  thee; 
Corruptio7i  wins  not  more  than  honesty: 
Still  in  thy  ri§-ht  hand  carry  g-e^itle  peace. 
To  silence  envious  tong'ues.     Be  just  and 

fear  not: 
Let  all  the  ends  thou  aim' st    at,   be  thy 

Country's, 
Thy    God's,  and    Truth' s;    then   if  thou 

fair  st,    O  Crom^well! 
Thou  fair  st  a  blessed  martyr!" 

Shakspeare. 


REMINISCENCES  and  REVERIES. 


CHAPTER     I, 

Naturali^y  they  who  in  the  coming-  years 
may  take  up  this  volume,  will  wish  to  know 
more  than  is  disclosed  by  the  treatment  of 
the  subject  proper,  of  the  man  who  prefer- 
red to  brook  scholastic  disfavor  in  his  day, 
that  the  truth  mig-ht  be  declared;  hence  my 
decision  to  attempt  such  a  brief  account  of 
my  personal  affairs,  and  my  earlier  connec- 
tion with  this  work,  as  may  not  justly  ex- 
pose me  to  the  charg-e  of  egotism,  and  yet 
satisfy  the  reader  of  the  future. 

MY     ANCESTORS. 

A  few  years  before  the  Ang-lo-American 
war  of  1775 — 83,  a  young*  wedded  couple  of 
Holland  Dutch  descent,  but  American  born. 


16  REMINISCENCES. 

purchased  a  considerable  tract  of  land,  and 
hewed  out  for  themselves  a  rude  home  in  the 
primeval  forest,  at  a  point  situated  in  the 
present  rural  township  of  Columbia,  in  the 
county  of  Herkimer,  and  stxte  of  New  York 
U.  S.  A.,  seven  miles  north  of  the  famous 
watering-  place  and  pleasant  summer  resort 
of  Richfield  Spring-s. 

That  couple  was  Henry  and  Eva  Miller, 
my  g-randparents  on  the  paternal  side.  Pos- 
sessing- an  abundance  of  hope  and  vig'or, 
they  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing-  the  little 
clearing-  around  their  home  g-row  larg-er  each 
year,  as  the  forest  retreated  before  the  stal- 
wart husband's  ax,  while  the  wife  invested 
their  humble  dwelling-  with  those  simple 
home  charms  w^hich,  where  contentment  is, 
transform  the  hut  into  a  palace. 

In  this  silvan  retreat  children  were  torn, 
to  aug-ment  both  the  happiness  and  the  care 
of  my  worthy  ancestors;  other  settlements 
were  springing*  up  around  them,  the  few 
natives,  or  Indians  in  the  vicinity  continued 
friendly,  and  they  looked  forward  to  a  life 
of    peace    and    prosperity. 


REMINISCENCES.  17 

But  in  the  midst  of  this  tranquility,  there 
was  borne  to  them  on  the  eastern  breeze  the 
clarion  notes  of  war,  heralding*  an  open  rup- 
ture at  last,  of  the  strained  relations  long- 
existing*  between  the  colonies  and  the  moth- 
er country;  and  fleet-mounted  couriers  came 
darting'  throug'h  the  settlements,  calling  the 
sturdy  yeomanry  to  haste  to  their  country's 
defense. 

Gathering-  his  little  flock  around  him,  and 
consig-ning-  them  to  the  care  of  a  kind  and 
trusted  Heavenly  Father,  my  g-randsire  took 
down  from  its  resting'-place  over  the  rude 
mantle,  his  trusty  rifle,  and  only  waiting-  to 
secure  his  ammunition  and  a  few  rations,  set 
out  for  the  appointed  rendezvous,  to  follow 
his  country's  banner  through  that  long  and 
unequal,  but  successful  contest,  recorded  in 
history  as  the  American  Revolution. 

My  grandmother  remained  at  home  with 
her  little  ones  many  months  after  her  hus- 
band's departure,  caring-  for  their  embryo 
farm  and  little  home,  which  had  become  so 
dear  to  them;  but  the  conflict  was  steadily 
pressing-  farther  westward  into  the  interior. 


18  REMINISCKNCES. 

and  when,  one  beautiful  autumn  day  a  well 
known  scout  came  dasliino-  throuo-h  the  set- 
tlement  on  his  foam-flecked  steed,  warning- 
the  people  of  the  approach  of  a  hostile  body, 
she  hastily  g'athered  up  a  few  necessary 
g-arments,  seized  a  kettle  of  hasty  pudding- 
just  ready  for  their  noonday  meal,  and  with 
a  small  pail  of  milk  and  a  few  rude  pieces 
of  table-ware,  took  her  tw^o  children  and  set 
out,  throug'h  the  woods,  for  the  friendly 
shelter  of  Fort  Herkimer,  seven  miles  away; 
which  they  safely  reached  by  nightfall,  halt- 
ing- only  a  sufficient  time  along*  the  way,  in 
a  sequestered  ravine,  to  partake  of  their 
frug-al  meal. 

At  the  close  of  the  war  this  family  was 
reunited,  and  returning-  to  their  home,  took 
up  the  thread  of  life  anew.  More  cleared 
acres  were  added  to  those  already  improved, 
more  comforts  and  conveniences  to  the  little 
home,  and  more  members  to  the  household; 
my  father  having-  been  the  young-est  of  the 
family. 

After  the  death  of  my  grandfather,  his 
landed  estate  was  divided  amono-  his  several 


RKMINISCENCKS.  19 

sons;  my  father,  John  H.  Miller,  receiving- 
the  homestead,  and  assuming-  the  care  of  my 
g'randmother  and  a  crippled  uncle. 

My  mother  was  a  Widrick  —  a  niece  of 
Gen.  Geo.  Widrick,  who  saw  service  in  the 
war  of  1812 — 14,  and  I  was  their  young-est 
child;  the  date  of  my  birth  being-  recorded 
in  the  old  family  Bible  as  Feb.  20.  1842. 

My  parents  beg-an  their  wedded  life  in 
the  old  home,  but  in  due  course  of  time  they 
erected  the  more  modern  frame  structure  in 
which  I  was  born,  and  in  which  I  later  did 
much  of  the  work  treated  on  in  this  volume. 

I  had  one  brother  and  two  sisters  who, 
like  my  parents,  were  g*ood,  sensible  people 
of  a  practical  turn  of  mind,  affiliating-  with 
conditions  surrounding-  them,  and  respected 
by  all  who  knew  them. 

PERSONAIv   PECULIARITIES. 

I  was  emphatically  the  odd  sheep  of  the 
flock,  and  my  earliest  recollection  recalls  a 
fondness  for  Mechanics  —  I  would  leave  my 
playmates  any  time  to  watch  a  carpenter  or 


20  REMINISCENCES. 

blacksmith  work  at  his  trade.  I  also  evinc- 
ed a  taste  and  aptness  for  cutting-  profilco, 
or  silhouettes  out  of  paper  with  a  scissors, 
and  in  drawing"  with  chalk  or  pencil. 

When  sent  to  school  I  learned  rapidly,  and 
soon  gained  favor  with  my  teachers,  thoug"h 
I  was  not  a  favorite  with  the  school.  There 
was  always  a  tendency  to  misconstruction 
of  my  kindest  impulses  and  purest  motives; 
and  that  tendency  has  followed  me  through 
life,  causing*  me  sadness  and  regret. 

I  early  acquired  a  fondness  for  mathemat- 
ics, which,  during  that  stage  when  every 
boy  must  play  at  "circus,"  was  turned  to 
account  by  the  lads  employing  me  to  survey 
and  stake  out  for  them  their  imaginary  pa- 
vilion and  arena.  I  would  go  out  with  my 
line  and  stakes,  and  pursue  the  work  with 
a  pleasure  that  lasted  till  my  task  was  com- 
pleted, but  ended  where  their  fun  began, — 
the  enterprise  possessed,  for  me,  no  further 
interest. 

That  love  for  mathematics  increased  with 
ni}'  school  years,  and  I  soon  fell  to  encounter- 
ing and  pursuing  some  of  the  most  difficult 


REMINISCENCES.  21 

problems  with  a  tenacity  of  purpose  which 
usually  reached  a  successful  solution,  and 
g'ave  me  a  reputation  for  never  g-iving-  up  a 
problem. 

As  a  boy  I  was  impulsive  —  easily  moved 
to  sympathy  by  the  wail  of  distress  from 
any  living"  creature,  and  just  about  as  easily 
moved  to  ang^er,  on  provocation.  Respect- 
ing my  own  personal  interests,  I  have  ever 
been  w^hat  the  world  is  pleased  to  call,  im- 
provident; hoping"  and  desiring*,  it  is  true, 
to  be  in  comfortable  worldly  circumstances 
some  day,  yet  never  reaching'  that  period 
when  I  was  willing"  to  ig-nore  a  brother's 
need  or  interests,  that  I  mig"ht  add  to  my 
w^orldly  possessions;  and  only  desiring*  and 
seeking*  wealth  for  promoting"  the  object  I 
had  in  view. 

One  day  when  yet  a  small  boy,  my  moth- 
er said  to  me  in  a  tone,  not  so  much  of  re- 
proach as  of  prophecy:  '*You  w411  never  be 
rich,  Sam!"  The  expression  was  prompted 
by  my  g"iving  a  traveling  mendicant  all  the 
pennies  I  had  —  the  saving"s  of  many  days. 

How  true  that  prophecy;  yet  how  hard 


22  REMINISCENCES. 

for  the  average  man  of  the  world  to  under- 
stand that,  for  myself,  I  have  no  regrets. 

I  always  had  a  keen  relish  for  the  humor- 
ous side  of  life,  and  when  a  boy,  there  was 
ample  scope  for  observing-  the  ludicrous,  in 
the  vicinity  of  my  home.  We  had  a  half 
dozen  or  more  regular  "rounders"  in  that 
section,  who  visited  the  farmers  periodically 
for  sampling  the  cider  always  found  on  tap 
in  those  days.  Each  one  of  those  thirsty 
gentlemen  was  a  distinct  character^  abound- 
ing in  eccentricities  peculiar  to  himself;  but 
among  them  there  was  one  of  such  marked 
individuality  as  to  claim  more  than  a  passing* 
notice  here: 

Perce  Jackson,  in  his  cups,  was  to  my 
boyish  fancy  the  funniest  man  I  ever  saw; 
and  no  matter  how  sternly  I  would  be  cau- 
tioned ag-ainst  the  impropriety  of  laughing- 
at  his  folly,  when  Perce  turned  his  facial 
battery  im  me,  one  twino*e  of  the  muscles 
he  knew  so  well  how  to  work  effectively, 
would  render  that  caution  void  and  inopera- 
tive for  the  time  being'. 

Several  3'ears  ag*o,  during-  an  idle  day  my 


REMINISCENCES.  23 

thoughts  recurred  to  this  man,  and  I  made 
him  the  hero  of  a  little  sketch  in  rhyme, as 
will  be  found  in  the  next  chapter,  under  the 
title  of,  "A  Retrospection." 

PERPETUAL,   MOTION. 

When  in  my  fourteenth  year,  an  older 
schoolmate  explained  to  me,  in  a  g-eneral 
way,  the  subject  of  "Perpetual  Motion,"  of 
which  he  had  been  reading-.  I  became  in- 
terested at  once,  and  later  g^ave  the  matter 
a  g-ood  deal  of  thought;  the  result  being, 
that  when  I  was  sixteen,  I  turned  my  hand 
for  the  first  time  to  invention,  by  undertak- 
ing* to  produce  a  perpetual  motion  machine, 
after  a  plan  which  I  conceived  and  reduced 
to  drawing,  which  was  plausible  enough  to 
arouse  the  interest  and  enthusiasm  of  those 
who  were  priveleged  to  examine  it. 

But  I  early  learned  what  all  must  sooner 
or  later  learn,  who  take  up  this  fascinating 
study  —  that  action  and  reaction  are  always 
equal,  and  in  opposite  directions;  and  that 
g'ravity  acts  just  as  forcibly  on  an  ascending* 


24  REMINISCEiNCES. 

body,  as  on  a  descending-  one;  while  no  body 
can  exert  a  o-reater  force  in  descending-  from 
a  o'iven  point,  than  is  required  to  raise  it  to 
that  point  ag'ain,  no  matter  by  what  route 
it  travels. 

A  little  later  my  mind  was  incidentally 
turned  to  the  subject  which  afterward  be- 
came my  life  study.  It  was  my  priveleg-e 
to  observe  an  important,  thoug'h  not  quite 
total  eclipse  of  the  sun;  and  as  I  saw  that 
well  defined,  circular  shadow  sweep  over 
the  sun's  disc,  I  fell  to  meditating*  on  the 
cause  of  the  strang-e  phenomenon.  I  had 
learned  nothing-  of  astronomy  up  to  that 
time,  but  that  dark,  curved  or  circular, — 
something'^  passing*  between  me  and  the  sun, 
impressed  me  as  being*  some  other  heavenly 
body  which,  I  correctly  theorized,  rLig*ht 
be  the  mcon. 

Soon  feeling*  confident  that  I  had  discov- 
ered the  cause  of  this  phenomenon,  I  beg-an 
to  extend  my  inquiries,  and  having-  a  fair 
g-cneral  knowledg*e  of  g*eog'raphy  —  the  loca- 
tion and  sig-nificance  of  the  equator  and  the 


RKMINISCENCKS.  25 

tropics,  lines  of  latitude  and  long'itude,  with 
reference  to  the  location  of  my  home,  &c,  I 
conceived  fhe  bold  project  of  attempting- 
what  I  learned  in  after  years,  is  the  most 
important  problem  in  astronomical  science 
—  that  of  calculating-  the  distance  of  the  sun 
from  earth;  technically  called  "Finding  the 
solar  parallax." 

I  had  learned  that  at  the  time  of  the  equi- 
noxes—  on  the  21st.  day  of  March,  and  on 
the  23d.  day  of  September,  the  sun  is  direct- 
ly over  the  equator,  and  on  consulting-  the 
map,  I  found  that  my  home,  (from  which  my 
observations  would  be  made,)  was  nearly  on 
the  43d.  parallel  of  north  latitude.  I  reas- 
oned that  whatever  ang*le  the  sun's  rays 
made,  at  hio-h  noon  on  those  days,  with  a 
line  perpendicular  to  my  point  of  observa- 
tion, if  that  ang'ular  line  were  continued  till 
it  cut  a  line  drawn  upward,  perpendicular 
to  the  earth  at  the  equator,  the  point  of  in- 
tersection of  the  two  lines,  would  represent 
the  sun's  place;  whose  distance  from  earth 
could  be  accurately  determined,  by  takingf 
the  known   diameter   of  the   earth  for  our 


26 


REMINISCENCES, 


measuring-  unit.  This  plan  is  illustrated  by 
the  diaoTam  below,  which  I  will  describe 
as  follows: 

The  circle  represents  the  earth,  the  line 
E,  the  equator,  and  A  my  place  of  observa- 
tion in  lat.  43°  north,  while  s 
indicates  the  point  where  the 
line  c, (representing-  the  sun's 
rays, )  intersects  the  earth- 
perpendicular  line  D,  which 
point  locates  the  sun;  and  A, 
B,  c,  is  the  angie  which  the 
sun-rays  make  with  the  line 
B,  which  is  perpendicular  to 
my  place  of  observation. 

Taking-  this  as  the  basis  of 
calculation,  it  is  evident  that 
the  distance  from  earth  to  s, 
would  be  as  many  times  the 
earth's  diameter  (7926  miles) 
as  its  diameter  is  contained  in 
that  distance. 

After  this  plan  had  been  carefully  con- 
sidered, diag'rammed,  and  settled  upon,  I 
confidently  awaited  the  23d.  of  September, 


REMINISCENCES.  27 

earnestly  hoping-  it  might  be  a  clear  day, 
and  conditions  favorable  for  me  to  g*ather 
data  for  making*  this  positive  mathematical 
calculation  of  a  quantity  which,  I  had  been 
led  to  believe,  had  in  the  past  been  comput- 
ed by  very  uncertain  methods. 

TAKING   THE   SUN's    AI.TITUDE. 

The  eventful  day  came  at  last,  and  every- 
thing- seemed  to  favor  the  momentous  under- 
taking-. The  sky  was  without  a  cloud,  and 
to  my  g-reat  satisfaction,  the  family  all  went 
to  town  that  day,  except  my  crippled  uncle, 
who  sat  in  his  great  easy  chair,  no  doubt 
wondering-  what  strang-e  freak  the  boy  was 
pursuing*  ag-ain,  while  I  made  my  elaborate 
preparations  for  '* taking- the  sun's  altitude" 
when  it  should  reach  its  meridian  heig-ht, 
as  its  rays  came  in  over  the  w4ndow-sill  and 
rested  on  the  floor  of  the  living*-room  which 
we  occupied. 

My  observation  was  duly  made,  and  satis- 
factory results  obtained,  which  I  very  soon 
applied  to  the  diagram  that  had  previously 


28  REMINISCENCES. 

been  prepared;  —  but,  strang-est  of  strang-e 
results! — the  ang'ular  line  c,  instead  of  tend- 
ing- toward  the  line  D,  as  in  the  preceding- 
diag-ram,  actually  ran  just  about  parallel 
with,  or  possibly  a  little  diverg-ent  to  D,  as 
shown  by  the  dotted  line,  H. 

What  could  be  the  meaning*  of  this?  Had 
I  not  observed,  calculated,  and  diag^rammed 
correctly?  This  was  a  poser,  and  somewhat 
of  a  damper  to  me  for  a  time;  but  the  next 
year  I  beg'an  the  study  of  Physics,  and  soon 
learned  the  prime  cause  of  my  discomfiture, 
when  I  came  to  the  subject  of  "Refraction 
of  lig'ht,"  which  I  make  one  of  the  leading- 
topics  in  my  lectures. 

FIRST   EFFORT  AT   SEEF-CONQUEST 

As  I  look  back  over  those  early  years,  I 
can  now  see  that  I  was  reg-arded  by  my  ac- 
quaintances, as  not  a  bad  —  in  fact,  as  quite 
an  exemplary  youth.  I  manifested  to  them 
no  conspicuously  bad  habitr,,  had  early  been 
taug'ht  to  respect,  and  treat  with  kindness 
the  ag-ed  and  infirm,  attended  church  and 


REMINISCENCES.  2^ 

Sunday  school,  was  fairly  attentive  to  my 
studies  and  duties, — and,  at  any  rate,  was 
above  public  censure. 

But  I,  myself,  came  to  know  that  I  was 
desperately  wicked.  I  knew  that  there  surg-- 
ed  within  my  rebellious  heart  a  hot  torrent 
of  evil  thoughts  and  passions,  which  some- 
times found  vent  in  violent  acts,  but  oftener 
in  violent  and  profane  words;  and  the  con- 
viction g-ained  w4th  me  that  I  must  strive 
for  something-  better — but  where  would  the 
work  of  reformation  beg'in? 

My  first  effort  was,  to  cease  all  profanity; 
and  to  those  who  are  still  slaves  to  this  ut- 
terly useless,  foolish,  and  deplorably  sinful 
habit,  I  wish  to  say  that  I  found  its  conquest 
so  decidedly  easy,  that  from  the  very  hour 
I  first  made  the  decision,  I  had  put  it  under 
my  feet  forever! 

I  firmly  believe  that  God's  g-ood  ang*els 
specially  help  the  man  or  woman  who  sober- 
ly and  solemnly  decides  never  ag*ain  to  speak 
irreverently  the  names  of  the  Father  and 
the  Son.  And  v^hen  once  emancipated,  how 
thoroug'hly  futile,  ineleg-ant,  and  uncalled 


30  REMINISCENCES. 

for  the  needless  jarg^on  sounds.    It  certainly 
is  something  easy  not  to  do. 

THE    DAWN   OF    HOPE- 

The  g-ood  work  so  auspiciously  beg-un, 
was  later  continued  with  a  serious  consider- 
ation of  my  relations  to  a  Supreme  Being', 
and  I  fell  to  studying*  attentively  the  words 
of  promise  and  instruction  contained  in  the 
Scriptures,  with  the  result  that,  ere  long',  I 
found  that  peace  and  hope  which  our  Savior 
promises  all  who  dillig'ently  seek  hi'm;  and 
thoug'h  my  life  service  has  fallen  far, — far 
short  of  what  it  should  have  been,  from  so 
brig'ht  and  hopeful  a  beginning",  yet  that 
early  experience  has  influenced  my  whole 
subsequent  career;  and  who  is  able  to  say 
that  the  poor  effort  I  have  put  forth  in  the 
cause  of  divine  truth,  thoug'h  spurned  by  the 
"higher  critics,"  and  reg'arded  with  a  stolid 
suspicion  by  the  "old  school"  theolog'ians, 
may  not  win  for  me  a  humble  place  in  the 
bright  throng'  of  the  redeemed?  since  our 
Heavenly  Father  regards  not  more  highly 


REMINISCi^NCES.  31 

the  wonderful  achievements  of  men, — of 
which  he  stands  in  no  need,  —  than  he  does 
the  pure  motive  and  the  worthy,  thoug-h  un- 
successful effort  to  do  him  service. 

MY   FIRST   GREAT   SORROW. 

As  clouds  sometimes  obscure  for  a  season 
the  brig'ht  face  of  the  sun,  and  g-ive  a  som- 
bre cast  to  the  cheerful  landscape,  so  in  the 
following*  year  the  brig-ht  beam  of  hope  that 
shone  across  my  path,  was  shaded  by  my 
first  and  g^reatest  sorro^w. 

I  had  an  only  brother,  three  years  older 
than  myself  who,  except  when  I  was  away 
at  school,  had  been  my  constant  companion 
throug'h  all  my  boyhood  years;  and  I  loved 
that  brother  with  all  the  streng'th  of  an  ar- 
dent, impulsive  nature.  He  was  the  direct 
opposite  of  me  in  all  that  makes  humanity 
lovable.  Instead  of  the  reserved,  sensitive, 
ncn-mag-netic,  his  was  the  warm,  friendly, 
social  nature,  that  made  and  held  everyone 
his  friends.  His  tastes  were  purely  practi- 
cal and  domestic,  vrhilc  I  was  ever  reachino- 


32  REMINISCENCES. 

out  into  tlic  untried  and  unknown,  and  g'et- 
ting'  myself  —  inisunderstood! 

But  he  understood, —  and  believed  in  me; 
and  when  my  father  decided  to  give  me  a 
liberal  education,  he  generously  consented 
to  shouldering-  the  extra  duties  my  absence 
would  impose,  and  always  encourag-ed  my 
efforts,  and  manifested  the  deepest  interest 
in  my  advancement. 

But  one  cheerless  winter  night,  when  the 
cold  winds  moaned  among  the  leafless  trees, 
the  landscape  was  robed  in  its  winding-sheet 
of  snow,  and  the  ice-fetters  clasped  the  rip- 
pling* streams  in  their  frozen  embrace,  that 
generous  heart  ceased  to  beat, — that  manly 
form  was  touched  by  the  cold  finger  of  — 
Death!  and  a  g'loom  more  chilling*  than  the 
winds  that  moaned  his  sad  requiem,  fell  on 
the  happy  home  of  my  youth. 

Other  bereavements  have  followed,  till  I 
alone  am  left,  of  that  home  circle;  and  each 
has  broug-ht  its  poig-nant  g*rief  and  left  its 
sad  memory;  my  parents  and  uncle  depart- 
ing* in  the  ripe  fullness  of  years,  and  both 
my  sisters  in  the  prime  of  matronly  woman- 


THE    OLD    HOMESTEAD. 


REMINISCENCES.  33 

hood;  but  that  earlier  bereavement,  when 
the  Dark  Ano-el,  for  the  first  time  invaded 
the  home,  has  left  an  impression  which  time 
is  feeble  to  efface. 

Long-  years  have  flown  since  then  —  the 
snows  of  many  winters  have  rested  on  his 
g-rave,  and  their  pallid  hue  is  imparted  to 
my  once  dark  locks;  but  that  memory  is 
still  g'reen,  and  sometimes  I  try  to  picture 
how  it  mio-ht  be,  had  he  been  spared  to  see 
this  day: 

The  old  homestead,  now  so  dreary  and 
neg-lectcd,  improved  and  modernized,  mig-ht 
still  be  the  center  of  a  happy  social  and 
family  circle,  dispensing  its  hospitality  as 
of  yore;  the  fields  be  smiling  under  gener- 
ous culture,  and  a  warm  welcome  awaiting 
my  occasional  return  to  the  only  place  I 
ever  called — home! 

But  it  was  not  so  to  be, — and  can  we  say 
that  it  would  be  better  thus?  Can  we  say 
that  he  is  not  happier,  or  that  the  rugg-ed 
path  I  am  treading*,  may  not  yet  lead  to  the 
fulfillment  of  my  destiny? 


34  RCMINISCENCKS. 


STANDING  BT  THE  OLD  FLAG. 

When  twenty  one  years  of  ag'e,  I  beg'an 
teachino*,  and  during-  my  first  summer  vaca- 
tion I  officiated  as  clerk  at  the  famous  sum- 
mer resort  hotel,  "The  Spring  House,"  at 
Richfield  Springs,  N.Y. 

Those  were  stirring  days — our  ci/il  war 
of  1861 — 65  was  at  ics  heig'ht  then — broth- 
er striving  against  brother  with  an  energy 
and  desperation  that  boded  final  desolation 
t3  our  fair  land. 

The  battle  of  Gettysburg-,  with  its  fearful 
carnagx,  was  fought  early  in  July,  bringing" 
the  conflict  far  north;  the  famous  New  York 
riot  quickly  followed,  and  strong  men's  fa- 
ces blanched,  at  the  prospect  of  the  wide- 
spread ruin.  For  weeks  following-,  the  Old 
Flag  seemed  to  hang-  limp  at  the  mast  —  to 
almost  trail  in  the  dust. 

At  this  time  of  my  country's  sorest  need, 
I  came  to  New  York  City,  and  enlisted  as 
a  common  sailor  in  the  United  States  Navy., 


REMINISCENCES.  35 

and  was  soon  put  aboard  a  battle-ship,  and 
sent  down  on  the  Wilming-ton  blockade,  off 
the  coast  of  North  Carolina. 

Here  is  where  would  properly  come  in  the 
record  of  heroic  deeds  and  g-lorious  achieve- 
ments; bnt  unfortunately,  the  limited  oppor- 
tunities for  distino'uishing-  myself,  and  the 
lack  of  a  fertile  imag-ination,  will  make  this 
part  of  my  history  only  plain  reading*. 

I  vv^ent  throug'h  the  usual  routine  aboard 
a  man-o'-war  of  washing*  down  decks,  drill- 
ing* at  the  g*uns,  also  standing*  an  occasional 
mast-head  look-out,  and  my  reg*ular  nig'ht- 
watch  and  look-out  on  deck.  This  list  was 
diversified  with  partaking*  of  the  regular 
ship's  fare  three  times  a  day,  and  sleeping- 
in  a  hammock  a  few  hours  at  nig*ht. 

But  the  monotonous  life  aboard  ship  was 
relieved  occasionally  by  sig*hting*  a  strang-e 
sail,  when  our  vessel,  which  was  a  fast  one, 
would  p-ive  chase  and  overhaul  the  strano-er. 

This  would  cause  the  gfreatest  excitement 
and  activity  among*  our  crew,  who  would  be 
ordered  to  their  respective  posts  as  we  dre^v 
near,  ready  for  action  if  the  craft  appeared 


36  REMINISCENCES. 

formidable,  and  could  not  give  a  g-ood  report 
of  herself;  which  however  they  usually  suc- 
ceeded in  doin^*,  with  us,  thoug'h  sometimes 
not  without  considerable  parleying-. 

li^ACING   THE   enemy's    GUNS. 

Another  occasion  for  chang-e  in  our  tread- 
mill existence  would  come  when  our  breth- 
ren, the  enemy,  would  send  out  one  of  their 
*' blockade  runners,"  or  clandestine  supply 
boats,  unber  cover  of  the  guns  of  Ft.  Fisher 
and  their  shore  batteries,  just  before  night- 
fall, for  the  purpose  of  decoying  us  within 
rang'e  of  their  heavier  guns,  and  I  presume 
also  to  get  their  vessel  started  on  its  way  to 
escape  through  the  picket-line  of  our  fleet, 
during  the  darkness  of  the  night. 

We  would,  at  such  times,  draw  up  within 
fairly  effective  range  and  open  fire,  which 
would  be  promptly  responded  to  by  the  fort 
and  batteries,  the  shot  and  shell  flying  fast, 
and  sometimes  unpleasantly  close;  our  ship 
in  the  meantime  working-  her  g'uns  as  rapid- 
ly as  possible,  and  occasionally  shifting  her 


REMINISCENCES.  37 

position,  to  spoil  the  enemy's  range;  \\hich 
tactics  fortunately  kept  us  from  harm,  but 
another  yessel  of  our  fleet — the  "Iron  Age," 
was  destroyed,  by  a  shell  being  fired  into 
her  mag'azine. 

The  firing  would  be  kept  up  till  darkness 
set  in,  when  we  would  retire  to  our  station 
in  the  picket-line  extending-  across  the  chan- 
nel ;  there  to  watch  in  silence  and  darkness 
for  the  unlucky  craft  that  shovdd  have  the 
temerity  to  cross  our  path. 

In  those  eng'ag-ements,  I  am  now  happy  to 
say,  I  do  not  know  that  I  was  eyer  instru- 
m.ental  in  killing,  or  in  assisting*  to  kill  a 
single  man,  thoug*h  our  yessel  g*aye  a  g'ood 
account  of  herself  during'  my  term,  of  service 
aboard  of  her;  and  had  every  craft  of  equal 
capacity  in  the  service  of  the  Government 
done  equally  w^ell,  the  v^ar  would  have  end- 
ed two  years  sooner  than  it  did;  as,  besides 
other  minor  services,  we  captured  one  large 
blockade  runner,  laden  with  a  valuable  car- 
g-o  of  g'eneral  and  military  supplies,  which 
^ve  duly  turned  over  to  the  Government  and 
received  certificates  for  * 'prize  money." 


38  REMINISCENCES. 


AN   UNPLEASANT    SITUATION. 

We  took  the  crew  of  the  prize  aboard  our 
own  vessel,  and  assig-ned  them  the  forward 
part  of  the  berth  deck;  stretching-  a  rope 
across  for  a  dividing-  line,  and  beyond  keep- 
ing- a  marine  g'uard  or  two  at  this  line,  and 
serving*  them  with  rations,  paying*  but  little 
attention  to  our  prisoners,  till  one  nig-ht  one 
of  our  marines,  a  fine  young*  fellow,  whose 
hammock  swung"  next  to  mine,  was  taken 
violently  sick,  and  in  spite  of  all  the  ship's 
surg-eon  could  do  for  him,  he  g-rew  steadily 
worse,  till  finally  two  other  surg'eons  of  the 
fleet  were  summoned,  and  a  council  of  doc- 
tors was  held. 

Prom  the  ominous,  non-commital  demean- 
or of  the  doctors,  I  g*ained  the  impression 
that  they  had  discovered  something'  serious, 
if  not  alarming-;  and  when  nig-ht  came,  and 
the  men  were  asleep  in  their  hammocks,  I 
called  the  colored  doctor's  nurse  (aGeorg-ia 
plantation  man)  to  me,  and  asked: 

"Ben!  what's  the  matter  with  this  man — 


REMINISCENCES.  39 

what  do  the  doctors  say  of  him  ? ' ' 

With  a  furtive,  sweeping-  o-lance  at  the 
sleepers  in  their  hammocks,  which  displayed 
his  white  eyeballs  in  the  dim  light  of  the 
ship's  lantern,  and  with  his  g-reat  chest 
heaving-  as  if  he  had  been  running  a  race, 
he  came  up  close  to  my  ear  and  whispered 
loud  enoug'h  to  be  heard  on  the  g'un  deck: 

'*Well,  I  doan'  s'pose  I's  'lowed  to  tell 
you  de  truf,  Sah!  but  I  specs  he's  done  g-ot 
de  small-pox!^' 

Great  guns !  Here  had  I  been  lying  two 
nights  beside  a  man  having'  the  small-pox! 

But  how  did  the  poor  fellow  take  the  dis- 
ease ?  Then  it  occured  to  me  that  one  of  our 
prisoners  had  appeared  indisposed,  and  w^as 
lying*  down  nearly  all  the  time  he  had  been 
aboard,  and  it  was  later  found  that  from 
him  the  infection  came. 

Rig'id  measures  were  taken  the  next  day 
to  prevent  the  spread  of  the  disease,  by  vac- 
cinatino-  all  hands;  and  as  we  were  o-ettino- 
short  of  coal,  we  ran  up  to  Beaufort,  N.  C, 
our  re^'ular  coaling  station,  where  our  ship 
was  quarantined,  after  sending*  our  patient, 


40  REMINISCENCES. 

myself  who  had  been  specially  exposed,  and 
two  others,  to  Hammond  General  Hospital, 
in  Beaufort. 

THE    CHARMS  OF    SOEITUDE. 

Our  sick  man  was  sent  out  to  the  ' '  pest 
house,"  and  I  was  placed  in  a  vacant  ward 
of  the  hospital,  considerably  removed  from 
the  other  inmates,  to  await  developments. 

I  have  seen  some  dark,  and  some  lonely 
hours  since  that  time,  and  the  outlook  has 
been  dreary  and  unpromising*,  but  never  be- 
fore or  since  have  I  been  so  broug*ht  face  to 
face  with  the  azvf illness  of  desolation^  that 
environed  me  those  nine  days  of  isolation 
and  uncertainty. 

The  only  sounds  that  came  to  my  ear  were 
the  dull,  monotonous  beat  of  the  sea  waves, 
and  the  occasional  crowing-  of  one  solitary 
rooster,  whose  existence  near  a  military  post 
could  only  be  accounted  for  on  the  theory 
sug-g-ested  by  his ''Hark  from  the  tombs" 
style  of  crowing-  —  he  had  g-rown  so  old  and 
thin  that  the  boys  had  no  use  for  him. 


REMINISCENCES.  41 

The  visual  prospect  was  no  more  cheering 
than  that  presented  to  the  ear.  From  my 
window  stretched  the  murky  waters  of  the 
harbor,  with  some  shipping  at  the  farther 
side,  and  the  low  walls  of  Fort  Macon  be- 
yond; the  remaining  landscape  consisting  of 
stretches  of  yellow  sand,  with  a  dull,  leaden 
sky  overhead  and,  a  g*eneral  cast  of  gloom. 
Could  outlook  be  more  cheerless  ? 

Yet,  strange  to  say,  in  the  midst  of  these 
disheartening*  circumstances  I  never  yielded 
to  despair.  I  confidently  expected  to  have 
the  terrible  disease  to  which  I  had  been  so 
thoroughly  exposed,  but  I  as  confidently  be- 
lieved that  I  should  pull  safely  through,  and 
I  was  even  able  to  picture  to  my  mind's  eye 
the  scarred  and  changed  appearance  I  would 
present  to  my  family  and  friends,  on  my  re- 
turn  to  them  again. 

The  fatefvd  day  was  drawing  near — but 
that  God  in  whom  I  trusted  heard  the  pray- 
ers for  strength  and  help  which  ascended  to 
him  from  that  lonely  room,  and  he  answered 
them  in  his  own  g-ood  way,  which  is  always 
better  than  ours  —  his  hand  turned  aside  the 


42  REMINISCENCES. 

scourge  which  human  science  decreed  must 
fall, — when  the  tenth  day  of  my  seclusion 
arrived,  a  careful  examination  disclosed  no 
symptoms  of  the  malady,  and,  thank  Heav- 
en !    I  was  saved,  and  once  more  free  ! 

ADRIFT   IN   A   STRANGE    PORT. 

Our  ship  had  in  the  meantime  transferred 
her  prisoners,  been  released  from  quarantine 
and  was  on  her  w^ay  down  to  the  fleet ;  leav- 
ing- me  in  the  quaint  old  town  of  Beaufort  a 
few  weeks,  till  she  came  again  for  coal.  The 
young-  marine  recovered  in  time  to  g*o  aboard 
with  me,  on  her  return. 

While  in  Beaufort,  I  ming'led  much  with 
the  people,  and  g*ained  a  most  favorable  im- 
pression of  our  Southern  brethren.  I  found 
both  the  white  and  the  colored  people  kind, 
courteous,  and  g'enerous  to  a  fault;  with  no 
disposition  to  refer  to  "our  little  unpleasant- 
ness" during  friendly  intercourse. 

Among  others,  I  formed  the  acquaintance 
of  a  Mr.  Barry,  a  native  of  Charleston,  S.C. 
who  was  one  of  the  kindliest,  as  well  as  one 


REMINISCENCES.  43 

of  the  most  entertaining-  men  I  ever  met.  He 
had  been  in  the  service  of  our  merchant-ma- 
rine in  some  capacity  or  other  for  several 
years,  and  had  visited  many  of  the  principal 
ports  of  the  w^orld;  and  possessing-  fine  con- 
versational and  descriptive  talent,  I  never 
tired  of  hearing  him  talk  of  the  beautiful 
places  he  had  seen,  and  the  varied  and  pleas- 
ing- adventures  he  had  met  with. 

But  I  am  dwelling-  too  long*  on  this  part  of 
my  experience;  the  theme  seemed  very  cir- 
cumscribed when  I  began,  but  memory  calls 
up  events  which  mig-ht  fill  a  volume.  I  will 
close  however,  by  narrating-  one  more  event 
which  appeared  to  me  so  impressive,  that  if 
my  description  can  do  it  even  meag-er  justice 
I  trust  the  reader  will  not  deem  the  time 
taken  for  its  perusal  wholly  lost. 

ASLEEP   ON   GUAT^D. 

When  the  young  marine  and  myself  went 
aboard  ship  again,  we  w^ere  at  once  assig-ned 
to  our  respective  places,  though  he  was  far 
from  strong-  yet;    and  one  nig'ht,  after  our 


44  REMINISCENCES. 

vessel  had  ao-ain  taken  her  place  in  the  fleet 
the  officer  of  the  watch  fotind  the  poor  fel- 
low asleep  at  his  post.  Poor  tired,  debilita- 
ted nature  had  g-iven  out  at  last,  and  lapsed 
into  a  repose  which  was  a  cvmiQ,  punishable 
zuit/i  death! 

Oh!  that  duty  and  discipline  should  ever 
demand  so  stern  retributive  action  ag'ainst 
men,  when  the  heart  is  right,  the  motive 
pure,  the  spirit  willing-,  and  only  the  poor 
overtasked  flesh  fails ! 

But  such  is  the  approved,  and  apparently 
necessary  operation  of  our  poor  human  laws, 
— that  invalid  youth  was  placed  in  irons  and 
cast  into  the  ship's  prison,  (called,  in  ship's 
parlance,  "The  Brig,")  to  live  on  bread  and 
water  till  his  cause  should  be  adjudicated. 


Ten  days  had  already  flown,  and  a  beau- 
tiful Sabbath  morning*  dawned  on  the  world, 
brig-ht  and  pure  as  an  ang-el's  dream.  The 
men,  arrayed  in  their  ''Sunday  best,"  were 
formed  in  a  hollow  square'  on  the  quarter 
deck,   for  dress   review^;    after  which,   the 


REMINISCENCES.  45 

impressive  Sunday  service  was  read, —  and 
then  the  prisoner,  wan  and  worn,  and  with 
the  deejj  scars  from  that  dread  disease  dis- 
fig'urino-  his  once  handsome  features,  was 
brouo-ht  from  his  g'loomy  cell  and  placed  in 
our  midst,  to  receive  that  public  sentence 
which  should  be  a  salutary  lesson  to  all. 

The  enormity  of  the  offence,  and  the  dire- 
ful results  which  mig-ht  have  ensued,  were 
impressively  recited  by  our, — really  kind- 
hearted  executive  officer, — and  then,  mid  a 
hush  like  the  stillness  of  the  grave,  in  fal- 
tering* tones  he  pronounced  the  terrible 

death  penalty! 

And  what  of  the  prisoner?  Calm  and  se- 
rene he  stood  there,  with  eyes  a  little  eleva- 
t3d,  as  thoug'h  looking  away,  throug-h  the 
Heecy  white  clouds  and  the  bright  sunshine, 
to  the  beautiful  Haven  of  Rest  beyond.  No 
stolid  indifference  was  manifest,  no  defiant 
bravado;  but  a  calm  and  holy  resig'nation, 
such  as  can  come  only  from  a  brave  heart 
fortified  by  an  unwavering  trust  in  God. 

Pausing  a  moment,   to  g'ive  the  fateful 
words  their  full  import  and  influence,  our 


46  REMINISCENCES. 

"Executive"  once  more  broke  the  silence,  by 
proceeding-  to  review  the  extenuating-  cir- 
cumstances connected  with  the  young*  man's 
offence,  and  then,  with  a  mag'nanimity  that 
endeared  him  to  us  all,  and  which  mig-ht 
with  profit  be  emulated  by  others  who  are 
in  authority,  he  assumed  that  divine  prerog-- 
ative  which  subordinates  justice  to  mercy, 
and  g-ranted  the  youth  —  a  free  and  uncon- 
ditional pardon! 


CHAPTER    II. 

When  but  a  youth,  I  developed  a  love  for 
poetry,  and  passed  many  pleasant  hours  in 
reading-  selections  from  Cowper,  Goldsmith, 
Byron,  Young-,  Long'fellow,  Bryant,  Willis, 
and  others;  likewise  the  complete  works  of 
Milton,  which  had  a  peculiar  charm  for  me 
after  I  became  familiar  with  his  style  of 
expression. 

The  study  of  such  g-rand  productions  nat- 
urally awakened  a  desire  for  imitation;  but 
with  -the  exception  of  a  very  few^  quite  early 
effusions,  I  made  no  attempt  at  versification 
till  later  in  life;  when  during-  an  occasional 
respite,  if  some  subject  of  special  interest 
came  up,  I  fell  to  scribbling'  in  verse  for  the 
lack  of  something  better  to  do. 

Those  productions  with  one  or  two  excep- 
tions, were  not  published;  and  to  relieve  the 
dryness  of  w^hat  may  be,  to  some,  a  prosy 


48  REVERIES. 

volume,  and  also  with  the  hope  that  an  oc- 
casional reader  may  be  interested  or  amused 
thereby,  I  have  selected  a  few  of  them  on  a 
variety  of  subjects,  with  which  to  make  up 
a  brief  chapter  or  two. 


THE  CHAMPION. 

In  days  of  yore,   a  line  of  king's 

Ivong"  ruled  their  land  so  wise  and  just, 
That  peace  and  plenty  smiled  on  all; 

And  toilers  brave  reposed  the  trust 
That  want  and  strife  would  vex  no  more, 

The  brethren  of  their  humble  lot; 
But  love  and  justice  e'er  would  reig-n, 

And  war  and  intrig-ue  be  forg-ot. 

They  forg-ed  the  sword  of  carnag'e  to 

The  plowshare 's  rude,  but  useful  shape, 
And  spears  they  turned  to  pruning*  hooks. 

To  dress  the  olive  and  the  g*rape. 
The  wheel  turned  daily  in  the  mill. 

The  loom  g-ave  forth  its  noisy  clang",    • 
And  Youth  was  g-ay  and  Ag-e  was  cheered, 

And  maidens  at  their  lio-ht  tasks  sano-. 


REVERIES.  49 

But  can  the  Foe  of  Humankind, 

View  undismayed,  such  calm  repose? 
He  who  in  Eden  wrou-^'ht  the  deed. 

That  broug'ht  us  death,  and  all  our  woes? 
With  cunning-  vile  and  intrig'ue  bold, 

And  nothing-  fearful  to  offend. 
He  seeks  out  those  aspiring-  ones, 

Who  scorn  not  to  betray  a  friend. 

"Dost  see  the  treasure  being*  heaped 

Into  the  storehouse  of  your  Sire  ? 
What  thoug"h  you  fare  as  well  as  he  ? 

This  wealth  is  yours,  if  ye  aspire! 
Go  tell  the  tale  to  fickle  men, 

That  howe'er  blest  their  peaceful  days, 
Still  better  times  than  they  have  seen, 

Await  their  turn  to  Wisdom's  ways !" 

The  word  passed  out,  unrest  was  sown 

Throug-hout  the  borders  of  that  land;  — 
"Give  us  a  chang-e!"  they  stoutly  cry: 

And  tumult  rose  on  every  hand. 
The  ruler  who,  'with  scepter  mild. 

Had  g-uided  them  with  tender  care, 
Was  soon  dethroned,  and  quick  they  g*ave 

The  "Prince  of  Promises"  the  chair. 


50  REVERIES. 

-"-     '^     -'^   Wherefore  these  idle  men, 

With  downcast  eye  and  clonded  brow? 
Whence  comes  this  wail  of  want  and  woe  ? 

Why  in  the  furrow  rusts  the  plow? 
Where's  flown  the  spindle's  lively  whirr, 

The  sound  of  w^heel  and  forge  and  loom  ? 
A  '^Chang-e^'  has  come!  the  sun  has  set! 

And  murmurs  greet  the  g'athering'  g-loom! 

From  out  the  surg-ing-  crowd  there  speaks 

A  voice,  by  want  and  wait  made  bold  : 
*'My  brethren,  w^e  have  been  deceived  ! 

By  promise  false  w^e  have  been  sold  ! 
Rise!  rise!  and  in  your  mig'ht  cast  off 

These  chains  which  bind  us  to  our  lot! 
We'll  walk  this  earth  ag'ain,  free  vien  ! 

And  live  to  see  these  wrono-s  foro-ot!" 

*'Hear  treason  !    treason  !"  minions  shout, 

To  their  new  ruler  on  his  throne  : 
"Away  to  prison  with  the  dog*. 

We'll  crush  dissension  as  it's  sown  !" — 
The  sun  seeks  shelter  from  a  cloud. 

The  song'-bird's  note  of  joy  is  sealed  ; 
All  Nature  mourns  this  son  of  toil. 
As  hirelings  drag  him  from  the  field.  ^  '^ 


REVEKIES.  51 

-»     -"-     -"-  Morn  on  the  tourney-field— we  see 

The  troops  of  peasants  g-athering-  in  ; 
With  bated  breath  of  him  they  speak, 

Who  expiates  this  day  his  sin. — 
The  sin  of  voicing-  that  whereof 

The  heart,  long'  full,  was  overstrained  : 
But  hush!  the  heralds  wind  a  blast  — 

They  come! — the  Monarch  and  his  train! 

In  pompous  state  he  takes  his  seat, 

His  knig'hts  arrayed  on  either  hand  : 
"Bring'  forth  the  dog*! "he  hoarsely  shouts, 

"Who  dared  breathe  treason  to  his  band! 
Let's  see  if  he,  w^ho  late  so  brave, 

Would  make  his  vaunt ino-  lano*uaofe  e*ood, 
When  face  to  face,  he's  called  before 

These  of  our  knig'htly  brotherhood! 

"How  now,  vile  knave!  hast  aug'ht  to  say 

Against  thy  sentence,  ere  the  while  ? 
Stand  forth  and  face  this  g'oodly  sword! 

Thy  blood  its  blade  will  soon  defile! 
Ah  ha!    dost  falter,  g-rov'ling-  cur? 

Still  wouldst  thou  with  thy  voice  pollute 
The  presence  of  our  royalty. 

And  seek  our  edict  to  refute?" 


52  REVERICS. 

"Nay,  Sire!  this  only  would  I  crave, — 
Thou  knowest  the  laws  of  chivalry; 
They  o'ive  unto  the  one  condemned 

The  rijht  to  choose  a  champion,  free  ! 
Grant  me  this  freedom,  an  I  fail, 

I'll  ask  not  further  at  thy  hand!" 
"It's  g-ranted,  churl!  g-o  seek  your  knig-ht! 
Hah!  who  dare  face  one  of  our  clan?" 

Apart,  there  stand  a  gfroup  of  knights. 

Not  of  the   Monarch's    royal  train; 
And  in  their  midst  a  ^^  hite  plume  waves. 

Which  spot  the  prisoner  seeks  to  g-ain. 
Arrived  there,  he  devoutly  kneels 

Before  him  of  the  waving-  plume, 
And  prays  that  he  ^^ill  save  him  from 

The  fate  of  his  impending-  doom. 

The  knig-ht  bends  low,  he  lifts  him  up. 

And  bids  him  be  of  better  cheer; 
And  nothing-  daunted,  g*oes  to  stand 

Before  this  judg-e  and  king-  austere. 
"Most  worthy  Sire!  enoug-h  I've  seen 

Of  tourney  tilt  and  battle  strife. 
To   crave   me   not  unduly    this; 

But  this  is  for  a  brother  s    life! 


REVERIES.  53 

*'This  g-auntlet  therefore  I  cast  down, 

Low  at  my  Monarch's  royal  feet ! 
Who   takes  it  up,    of  g-oodly  fame, 

I'll  hold  myself  prepared   to  meet ! 
With  lance,  or  sword,  or  battle- ax. 

Will  I  enofag'e  him  in  the  fig-ht  — 
A   brother's  weal  my  holy  cause. 

My  battle  cry,  'God  and  the  right!'  " 

*'But  why  select  this  g'ray-haired  knig'ht, 
Thou  Prisoner?"  quoth  the  royal  king-: 
"Though  firm  his  step  and  keen  his  eye, 

Yet  younger  knig*hts  would  likely  bring 
More  willing  service  to  thy  cause. 

Not  that  we  fear  his  trenchant  blade; 
But  fain  would  know  the  impulse  hid. 
On  which  thy  worthy  choice  was  made." 

"Canst  thou,  O  Sire!  recall  the  strife 

Which  gave  to  thee  thy  present  throne? 
This  knight  stood  up,  unheeded  then. 

And  made  this  noble  precept  known  : 
*The  toiler  is  ill-paid,'  said  he, 

'And  wag*es  are  unjust  reduced. 
When  daily  wants  are  not  supplied. 

And  v.hereA\ith  to  instruct  the  youth; 


54  rEvi:ries. 

"  'With  something-  for  old  ag-e,  besides 

Stern  want  and  bitter,  scalding-  tears!' 
That  precept  in  my  ears  hath  rung-, 

Throug-h  this  repentant  term  of  years. 
And  now  I  breathe  once  more  of  hope, 

And  trust  to  see  my  just  cause  won, 
By  him  whom  I  with  joy  salute. 

And   hail,   MY    DAUNTLESS   CHAMPION  !' 


The  following-  article,  written  in  1889, 
sug-g-esting-  the  development  of  Electrical 
Science  up  to  that  date,  is  in  imitation  of 
Bryant's  poem,  "The  Dream, "with  a  few 
lines  borrowed  from  the  same,  for  which  I 
hereby  make  acknowledgment. 

A  DREAM  OF  THE  AGE. 

I  had  a  dream — a  strarg*e,  wild  dream! 

Thus  said  a  voice  at  early  lig-ht  : 
I've  slept  so  long-,    its  shadows  seem 

To  ling-er    in   my    waking-   si^'ht. 


REVERIES.  55 

A  dear  one  stood  on  a  foreig'n  strand, 
While  broad  Old  Ocean  rolled  between; 

She  pressed  a  button  with  her  hand, 
And  click  click  click,  went  some  machine. 

Forth  from  the  caverns  of  the  sea, 
A  message  prompt  and  speedy  came; 

And  lo!    it  was  addressed  to  me! 
And  bore  the  distant  sender's   name  ! 

**Halloo!  halloo!"  this  next  I  heard. 

In  notes  that  quavered  hig-h  and  higher  : 

*'List  now,  and  try  to  catch  each  word; 
I'm  talking  to  you — throiig'h  a  zvireT'' 

The  chattering  converse  at  leng-th  done, 
The  waning*  day  had  closed  in  nig'ht  : 

I  moved  my  hand— when,  like  the  sun! 
Flashed  forth  a  dazzling  sea  of  light ! 

New  objects  strange  the  lig'ht  reveals  : 
A  man  a  waxen   roll  did   take, — 

He  placed  it  mid  a  group  of  wheels, 
And  lo!  the  moving*  Tvonder  —  spake! 

As  rapt  I  stood,  past  seemed  to  float 
A  phantom,  steamless,  steedless  train; 


56  REVERIES. 

No  clattering-  hoofs  the  pavement  smote, 
No  driver  held   the   ouiding-  rein. 

What  means  this  visitation,    pray? 

Expound  to  me  the  lesson  now  ! 
'Twas  thus  I  heard  the  dreamer  say, 

And  bade  him  clear  his  clouded  brow  : 

"Your    dream   is   realized   to-day. 

Such  scenes  now  pass  in  quick  repeat; 
And  visions  strang^er.  yet  than  they. 
May  haunt  your  next  Van  Winkle  sleep. 


A  RETROSPECTION. 

As  memory  turns  to  scan  life's  way, 
A   shadow   quaint   comes   up. 

Of  one  I  knew    in   boyhood's   day. 
Who   loved    too   well    the   cup. 

Sad   story   'tis  for  me   to  tell, 
But  'neath  that  battered  ''tile," 

Reposed  a  wit,   I  know  full  well 
Could  have  made  a  bishop  smile  : 


REVERIES.  57 

A  mind   that   with  a  proper   bent 

To    win     itself    a    name, 
Mig-ht  to  its  day  and  ag'e  have  lent, 

A   Well-earned   meed   of   fame. 

But  love  of  g-lass  and  maudlin  wit, 

Perverted   sad    the   course, 
Of  him  who  oft  would  make  a  hit. 

Which  showed  his  latent  force. 

One  day,  across  the  fields  he  strode, 

Unto   the    nearest    inn, 
With  jug-  in  hand,  to  g'et  the  '*load," 

So    precious   then    to   him. 

Returning-,  he  with  **caishnul  quaff," 

His   arid   frame   regfales ; 
But  soon,  alack  !    across  his  path, 

There   loomed   a   fence   of   rails. 

Sedate  he  clambered  up  the  side, 
And   swung-    his    hurden   o'er, 

But,  (vain  attempt  the  truth  to  hide,) 
His   strength   could    do   no   more. 

As  stands  a  moment,  the  proud  oak, 
When    severed   at    the    trunk, 


58  REVERIES. 

Then  sinks  before  the  woodman's  stroke, 
So    dropped    our    hero  —  drunk! 

For  slipping-  from  his  weakening-  hold. 

His    counterpoise,    the    jug*, 
Both  jug'  and  man,  (it  must  be  told,) 

To   earth   came    w4th   a    thud. 

Soon  g'athering'  up  his  prostrate  form, 
And   peering-   throug-h  the   fence, 

He  spied  the  jug',  with  stopper  g'one. 
And   th'  liquor    flowing-    thence. 

As  the  '  'gfud  g-ud  g*ud, ' '  of  g-urg-ling'  flood, 

Fell   doleful   on   his   ear, 
"Ah  yes!"  sighed  he,  "I  know  ye 're  'g-ud,' 

But   I  dropped   over   here  I' ^ 


DEACON  PROHI'S   SON, "WILL." 

In  all  the  country,   scarce  you'd    find 
A  young-  man,  who  in  heart  and  mind. 
And  all  that  g-races  humankind. 
Excelled   the    Deacon's    son. 


RlivERIES.  59 

The  hand  he  g-ave  was  warm  and  strong-, 
His  laug-h  was  like  the  wood-bird's  song-, 
He  cheered  with  wit  the  social  throng-, 
His   friendship    was    sincere. 

But  lurking*  in  his  veins,   there  lay 

A  thirst  that  sometimes  comes,  they  say. 

In   some   hereditary   way, 

From   ancestors   remote. 

And  frequent  did  he  trip,  forsooth, 
When  scarcely  yet  more  than  a  youth; 
But  always  g"ave  his  word  of  truth, 
Each  trip  should  be  the  last. 

His  mother,   fearing-  for  her  child. 
No  long-er  by  fond  hope    beguiled, 
Implored  her  spouse  in  accents  mild, 
Some   check   to    interpose, 

'"What!   I  make  /cr;;zs/"the  Deacon  cried, 
"With  this  accursed  thing',  spreading"  wide? 
Ne'er  will  /seek  to  stem  the  tide, 
By    comproniise    with    sin! 

**Nay!  let  the  wrathful  torrent  roar! 
I^et  earth  run  red  with  human  o-ore ! 


60  REVERIES. 

Till,  like  at  Oman's  threshing'-floor, 

God  says,  'Stay  now  thine  hand  !'  " 

The  stern  old  deacon  had  his  way; 
The  mother  ceased  not  once  to  pray, 
But   never,    never   came   the   day, 

When  poor  Will  said,  "  'Tis  enoug-h." 

The  daisies  wave  now  o'er  his  tomb — 
His  heart-crushed  mother  followed  soon — 
The  Deacon  walks  his  lonely  room 
And  sig"hs,  "Too  late  !  too  late  ! 

"Could  I  but  then,  as  now,  have  seen 
This   Hydra-headed   drag-on   lean, 
I'd  have  known  it  could  not  e'er  have  been, 
To   crush   with   one    fell    stroke  1 

"Had  I  my  saint-wife's  bidding  done, 
And  lopped  these  heads  off,  one  by  one, 
I  mig-ht  have    kept   our   noble   son 
Out   of   a   drunkard's   g-rave  1 

"But    now,  alas !    it    is   too  late; 
They  await  me  at  the  Pearly  Gate; 
May  God  forg-ive  my  g-reat  mistake. 
And   take   us   to   His  rest!" 


REVERIES.  61 


''CUBA    LIB  RE  r 

{i8g6.) 

Aurora  greets  the  billowy  sea ! 
The  King-  of  Day,  now  risen,  darts  his  ra3^s 
Across  the  waves,  and  near  our  tropic  line, 
Like  a  rare  diamond  set  mid  lesser  g-ems, 
Discloses  there  a  green  and  fertile  isle  — 
Fair  queen  of  the  far-famed  Antillean  g-roup 
Whose  orang-e  g-roves,  by  the  zephyrs  fann'd 
That  steal  across  Caribbe's  southern  sea. 
Yield  their  rich  fruitag'e  to  our  open  marts; 
While  saccharine  sweets  in  bountiful  stores. 
And  rare  exotics  g*reet  our  shores. 

Four  centuries  are  flown  since  first  arose 
To  ken  of  questant  navig-ator  bold, 
The  headlands  of  this  fair  retreat.   The  heel 
Of  despot  since  has  deep  and  deeper  tracked 
Its  virg-in,  and  its  hig*hly  cultured  soil. 
And  laid  a  tribute,  onerous  to  bear; 
But  with  resources  natural,  yet  rare  — 
Delig'htful  climate,  swift  productiveness. 
And  ease  of  access  to  the  world  around. 


62  REVERIES. 

It  has  however  to  a  factor  g'rown 
In  the  commercial  world,  exceeding*  far 
The  area  of  its  circumscribed  domain: 
And  if  oppression  has  at  times  evoked 
The  plaint  of  people  smarting*  under  wrong', 
These  islanders,  in  most  part,  yet  have  been 
A  happy  and  contented  band  of  men. 

But  in  this  closing*  century,  what  strides 
Hath  Freedom  made,  and  victories  secured  ! 
Our  g-oddess  fair  of  Liberty  hath  flung* 
Her  banner  to  the  breeze,  to  float,  undimmed 
Now,  o'er  the  soil  once  by  the  bondman  trod: 
The  inspiration  from  its  folds  g-oes  out  — 
Is  wafted  o'er  the  intervening*  waves. 
And  touches  this  fair  isle  —  pervades  its  air, 
And  is  breathed  in  by  people  long*  oppressed. 
At  last, the  long--restrained,  decisive  shout 
Of  ''Cuba  libre!   Cuhci  librcr'  swells 
Ag*ain,  until  resistance  armed  and  fierce, 
Confronts  with  bristling*  steel  the  cry  '^"  '""  "' 
And  lo!  the  shout  is  chang*ed  to  wail  of  woe! 

Where  late  the  happy  song-  was  heard, 
Th'  inspirino-  thrum  of  harp  and  mandolin. 
Timing'  the  feet  of  merry  dancers,  'neath 


RI^vERlES.  63 

The  palm  trees'  shade,  while  Ag-e  surveyed 
With  kind  emotions,  youthful  pastimes  o-ay, 
There  now  are  ra^-ino-  all  the  horrors  dire 
Of   savag-e   and   exterminating-  war, 
Wag'ed  by  a  cruel  and  relentless  foe, 
Whose  blinded  zeal  no  ag'e  or  sex  doth  know. 

Mid  such  unequal  and  inhuman  strife. 
This  little  band  bears  bravely  up,  yet  looks 
With  hope  to  us,  the  nearest  hand  to  aid  — 
Exemplar  too,  of  that  for  which  they  strive. 
Shall  Cuba  seek  in  vain  the  help  that  came 
So  g'rateful  and  so  timely  to  our  cause 
When  erst  this  nation,  later  grown  so  great, 
Trod  the  same  path,  trembling-  for  its  fate? 

I  counsel  no  rash  breach  of  treaty  made, 
Nor  rupture  of  the  g-eneral  law  that  g'uides 
Great  nations  in  their  intercourse  benig-n; 
Yet  would  I  advocate  obedience  to 
That  higher  law  humane,  by  God  impressed 
In  living-  letters  on  each  Christian  heart; 
And,  g-rateful  for  the  g*rand,  historic  past, 
Would,  by  such  memories  as  Bunker  Hill 
And  Valley  Forg-e,  and  noble  La  Fayette, 
Adjure  the  Nation's  counselors  to  heed, 


64  REVERIES. 

And  ponder  well,  and  then  decide  aright 
What  now  so  stirs  each  patriotic  heart. 
And  then  to  vitalize  and  signalize 
That  just  decision,  born  of  motive  pure, 
By  action,  prompt,  humane,  decisive,  Sure! 


In  the  spring-  of  1889,  a  new  g'overnment 
administration  was  ushered  in,  represented 
largely  by  veterans  of  our  late  Civil  War ; 
and  being  out  of  employment,  as  well  as  out 
of  funds,  I  applied  to  the  head  of  one  of  the 
departments  for  a  small  clerkship,  and  re- 
ceived such  a  flattering  reply,  that  I  waited 
in  hope  and  confidence,  till  hope  finally  turn- 
ed to  disgust,  when  I  wrote  the  following 
article  and  sent  it  to  the  department,  advis- 
ing them  to  *'file"  it  with  my  application: 

^'PLACED  ON  PILE." 

As  the  days  drag  slowly  by , 
Weary    I   wait  ; 

And  forsooth,  would  know  just  why 
Doubt  holds  my  fate. 


REVERIES.  65 

Is  it  that  too  much  I  soug'ht  for  ?  — 
Just  for  menial  wag-e  t'ave  wrougfht  for 
The  same  land  in  youth  I  foug-ht  for! 
Or  was  I  too  late  ? 

* 'Yours  rec'd  and  contents  weighed, 

'Filed'  it   shall   be  ; 
To  its  claims  all  deference  paid, — " 
Thus  you  wrote  me. 
*'But  the  time  has  scarcely  come  yet. 
And  in  fact  we've  nothing'  done  yet 
With  the  places,  such  as  you  'd  g'et :" 
Sig-ned,  B.  F.  T. 

It  was  then  the  early  Spring*. — 
Autumn   is   here  ; 

Still  I  wait  the  postman's  ring"  — 
Gone   by,  I  fear ! 

Yet  a  comrade  would  not  treat  so, 

Any  man  who  helped  to  veto 

That  rash  effort  of  the  foes  to 

What   we    held  dear. 

**What  a  chump  you  are!"  says  Hoag-  — 

Ward  heeler,   wise. 
*'Why,  some  chap  with  foreig-n  brog-ue. 


66  REVERIES. 

Sure  g*ets  that  prize  ! 
You'll  o-et  nil  for  what  you've  done.  Sir  ! 
For  the  spoils  are  not  thus  won,  Sir  !  — 
Bet  that  windy  caucus  bumster 

Gets  there,  if  he  tries  !" 

Yet   I  fain  my  faith  would  save, 
Spotless  and   pure, 
In  the  leaders  of  the  brave. 

Firm    to   endure. 
Nor  rash  deem  ungrateful  those  who, 
Called  to  honor  from  the  "Boys  in  Blue," 
Yet  owe  much  to  those  comrades  true, 

Who  made  their  calling-  sure. 


THE  NATION'S  HOPE. 
( 1897. ) 

Our  Heavenly  Father,  in  His  love 

For  all  His  children,  small  and  great, 

With  sun  and  rain  doth  bless  the  soil. 
And  bounteous  crops  always  await 
The  gleaners,  when  the  harvest  comes. 

Yet  is  His  just  and  equal  plan. 


REVERIES.  67 

Perverted  sad  by  selfish  men  ; 
Who,  reaping-  where  they  have  not  sown, 
Despoiling-  others  of  their  own. 
And  *' Cornering-"  the  products  g-rown, 
Bring'  want  and  woe  to  many  homes. 

The  farmer,  like  the  busy  bee. 

Through  all  the  sultry  summer  heat, 
Goes  forth  the  sweets  to  g-ather  in, 
That  in  the  winter  he  may  eat. 
In  peace,  the  product  of  his  toil. 
But  restful  in  the  sheltering-  hive, 
Resolved  by  others'  sweat  to  thrive, 
The  moth-worm  lies  in  silken  nest. 
And  seizing-  for  himself,  the  best, 
L/eaves  little  for  that  day  of  rest, 
Well  earned  by  him  who  tills  the  soil. 

The  workingman,  with  dinner-pail, 

Goes  to  his  task  on  Monday  morn  — 
Toils  all  the  week,  and  at  its  close. 
Lays  down  his  wag'e,  bereft  and  shorn 
Of  every  cent,  for  rent  and  bread. 
Meanwhile,  rich  members  of  the  ''Trust" 
Now    paying    wages   so   unjust, 
Desire  more  work  done  in  a  day. 


68  REVERIES. 

And  seek  to  yet  reduce  the  pay 
Of  those,  who  thus  are  moved  to  say, 
"How  shall  our  little  ones  be  fed  !" 

These  ills,  which  now  so  sore  distress 

Our  body-politic,  we're  told, 
May  soon  be  cured;  and  't  mig-ht  be  best 
Some  of  the  plans  to  here  unfold, 
Proposed  by  men  of  hig'h  estate. 
A  famous  "after-dinner"  sag-e  — 
A  man  who  says  he  w^orks  for  wag"e, 
And  though  with  millions  laid  in  store, 
Yet  shrewd  directs  vast  millions  more, 
And  who  with  mirth  is  bubbling"  o'er, 
Facetiously   did    thus   dilate  : 

"What  if  the  few  now  own  the  Earth  ? 

Yet  is  there  always  ample  room 
For  enterprising-  men  with  brains, 
In  that  expanse  this  side  the  moon. 
Known  as  the  reg-ion  of  the  air. 
And  for  the  man  who  first  perfects 
An  air-ship,  free  from  all  defects, — 
Since  there's   no  rig'ht  of  way  to  buy," 
(They'll  give  us  that  — up  in  the  sky,) 
"1   sure   can   see    no   reason   why 


REVERIES.  69 

There   is  not  left  a  prospect  rare  !" 

This  to  a  press  reporter  shrewd, 

Who  next  inquired  the  reason  true, 
Why  times  were  so  extremely  hard: 
Our  sag-e  replied,  "  'Tis  wholly  thro' 
Over-production — that's  the  cause!" 
Strang-e  cause  indeed,  when  analyzed  — 
And  the  reporter  looked  surprised. 
That  men  should  pine  for  daily  bread, 
And  wife  and  children  scant  be  fed. 
Because  too  bounteous  the  spread  — 
This  is  perversion  of  God's   laws  ! 

But  now  a  strong*  assurance  comes. 

That  all  these  ills  will  soon  be  healed : 
For  millionaires  a.re  being*  installed 
In  national  councils,  and  will  wield 
Marked  influence  o'er  the  public  fate. 
Men  who  a  great  success  have  made 
Of  their  affairs — in  stocks,  or  trade. 
And  who  are  thus  best  fitted  to 
The  work  they  are  engaged  to  do. 
Of  helping-  this  great  nation  through. 
And  steering  safe  the  Ship  of  State. 


70  REVERIES. 

Devoutly  thankful,  yet  in  doubt, 

I  would,  for  information,  ask  — 
Wherein  consists  the  g'reat  success 
That  fits  these  doctors  for  the  task 
Of  treating-  our  cong-ested  case  ? 
Is't  that  they've  practiced  in  the  school 
That's  founded   on   the    Golden  Rule  ? 
Or  have  they  only  g'athered  in, 
And  to  that  rule  indifferent  been. 
And  thus  promoted  the  g'reat  sin 
They're   now   expected   to   efface  ? 

Two  other  cures  are  advertised. 

Known  as  Protection,  and  Free  Trade 
But  these  are  "Chestnuts" — only  used 
When  sturdy  effort  is  to  be  made. 
To  g'lty  the  people  for  their  votes. 
The   remedy  which  now  appears 
Most  soug-ht  for  in  these  later  years, 
Is  something'  that  will  safe  inflate 
Our  currency,   and   thus  create 
A  surplus  that  will  help  to  break 
This  "Corner"  on  our  treasury  notes. 

But  would  not  then  these  financiers, 
Like  cormorants  in  search  of  prey, 


REVERIES.  71 

Swoop  down  upon  the  workingman, 
And  soon  this  surplus  bear  away, 
And  turn  the  keys  on't,  as  before  ? 
How  would  I  then  this  case  amend  ? 
What  certain  remedy  commend, 
That  would  a  healthy  tone  impart, 
Brisk  circulation  once  more  start. 
And  thus  relieve  the  Nation's  heart. 
And  bring-  contentment,  as  of  yore  ? 

A  precept  sure  the  Master  gave  — 
He  that  was  born  in  Bethlehem  : 
*'As  ye  zvoiild  have  men  do  to  yoii^ 
So   do  ye^  even   nnto   thevi  !^^ 
This  do,  and  all  these  ills  will  flee. 
Let  Christian  grace  rule  every  heart. 
And  truth  and  justice  have  their  part; 
Let  men  reg^ard  each  other's  g'ood, 
And  walking  as  His  followers  should, 
Build  up  a  Christian  brotherhood 
For    time,    and   for   eternity, — 
'Tis  this  alone,  can  make  us  FREE  ! 


72  REVERIES. 


An  early  friend,  who  was  a  mag-istrate, 
and  a  most  ag'reeable  and  entertaining  man, 
once  told  a  good  story  of  a  remarkable  legal 
decision  made  by  another  judicial  dig-nitary, 
which  I  took  a  fancy,  one  day,  to  reduce  to 
rhythm,  as  follows,  under  the  title  of  — 

BLIND  JUSTICE. 

The  scales  of  Justice  are,  in  most, 
So  nicely  poised,  that  one 

Could  scarce  a  cause  present,  to  boast 
That  neither  side  had  won. 

Still  less  might  happen  to  be  weighed 
A  case   where   both   sides  win ; 

For  costs  accrue,  which  must  be  paid, — 
Some  one  must — **place  the  tin." 

But  that  such  puzzlers  may  arise. 

An   instance   I   append  ; 
And  that  this  land  the  wit  supplies 

To  meet  them, —  please  attend  : 

An  old  Dutch  justice  tried,  one  day, 
A  suit  for  trespass,  which, 


RKvERms.  73 

In  point  of  precedent,    they  say,  ' 
Was  thoug'ht  exceeding'  rich. 

The  evidence  was  the  winning-  kind. 
On  both  sides,   it  was  said  ; 

But  yet,  what  fixed  the  judg'e's  mind. 
Was  what  the  lawyers  plead. 

As  one  his  client's  cause  espoused, 
In  tones  of  thunder,  which 

The  shades  of  Blackstone  nig'h  aroused. 
And   still   arose    in   pitch,  — 

The  old  judg-e  listened,  till  there  shone 

Conviction   on   his   face  ; 
Then  firmly  said,    in  under  tone, 

*'De    blaintiff    win   de    case !" 

But  soon  in  ring-ing-  tones,  was  made, 

On    the    opposing*    side, 
A  plea  which  judg-ment  quickly  stayed. 

And    turned    the   leg-al    tide  : 

Por  as  the  counsel  mounted  up. 
And  yet   essayed    to  climb, 

The  judg-e  said,  (and  the  table  struck, ) 
'*De  'fendant  win  dis  time  !" 


74  REVERIES. 

But  when  a  joint  appeal  was  broug-ht, 
And    both    for  verdict    plead, 

The  old  man  rose,  with  wisdom  fraug-ht, 
And    this    is    what    he    said  : 

"De  blaintiff  an'  defendant,  dey 
Haf ,  bot'  dem,  win   de   case  ! 

De  constable  de  cost  muhst  bay, 
Or   g-o    to   jail   ten   dayss  !" 


The  following*  article  was  offered  to  one 
of  the  chief  literary  journals  of  Boston,  but 
the  editor  said  that  as  his  paper  had  a  larg-e 
sale  among"  people  who  mig'ht  not  feel  as  I 
did,  on  the  subject  treated,  he  thoug'ht  best 
not  to  publish  it. 

I  replied  :  "Call  my  production  crude,  in- 
ferior, anything  you  please;  but  do  not  leave 
me  to  infer  that  the  leading*  literary  journal 
of  Old  Boston,  the  birthplace  of  American 
Liberty,  the  home  of  the  g-rand  old  champi- 
ons of  Human  Freedom,  would  consider  it 
irn politic  to  publish  a  pen-picture,  if  well 


REVERIES.  /O 

drawn,  of  that  g-reat  transformation  scene, 
wherein  the  shackles  of  four  million  bond- 
men fall,  at  touch  of  the  sainted  Lincoln." 

A   REVERIE. 

I  hold  a  picture  in  my  hand, — 

An  artist's  dream,  yet  real  : 
The  central  fig-ure  posed,  as  'twere, 

By  touch  of  hands  to  heal. 
Majestic  is  the  lofty  brow. 

Though  furrowed  deep  with  care  ; 
And  something',  as  of  high  resolve, 

Is   plainly   written   there. 

Strong  is  the  love  for  all  mankind 

Depicted   on   the   face  ; 
Yet  sense,  as  well,  of  duty  stern, 

'Tis   easy    there    to   trace. 
While  thoughts  politic,  of  the  weal 

Of  country,  have   their  part  ; 
And  over  all,  a  tenderness, — 

True    tenderness   of    heart. 

Beside  the  tall,  commanding  form. 
On  either  hand,  there  kneels 


76  REVERIES. 

A  dusky  fio-ure,  as  in  prayer, 
And    joining-    their    appeals. 

Their  wrists  secure  and  firm  are  bound 
With    chain    and    iron   band  ; 

And  on  each  suppliant's  crispy  head, 
Is    laid   a   g-entle    hand. 

My  thoug-hts  turn  backward,  as  I  g^aze, 

To  those  dark  days  of  strife. 
When  Fratricide  recked  little,  that 

It  smote  a  brother's  life. 
And  hang-ing-  o'er  the  tented  field. 

The   promised   bow    I   see. 
Whose  hues  betokened  liberty. 

In  the  "Year  of  Jubilee." 

A  transformation  slowly  steals 

O'er  the  picture  in  my  hands; 
I  see  those  chains  assunder  fall. 

And  from  the  wrists,  the  bands. 
And  all  around  the  central  head, 

A   halo   bright,  is   bent, 
And  in  its  radiance,  Lo!  I  see, 

Our  Martyred  President  ! 


CHAPTER   III, 

OUR  SAVIOR'S  BAPTISM. 
St,  Matthew,  Chapt,  Hi, 

In   far    Judea's    wilderness, 

Where  flows  the  Jordan  to  its  sea, 
A  plain  man  in  a  plainer  dress, 

Bespoke  most  wondrous  things  to  be. 
**Repent  ye!"  was  his  stern  command  — 
**Messiah's  king-dom  is  at  hand  ! 
Prepare  a  way,  make  His  path  straight!" 
'Twas  of  this  man  Esaias  spake. 

That  plainly  man,  of  saintly  voice, 
The  multitudes  unto  him  drew  ; 
To  listen,  was  their  willing-  choice  — 
Old  prophecies  were  coming  true. 
For  was  not  this  the  voice  of  one 
Who  in  God's  promised  time  should  come? 
He  who  the  tidings  glad  should  bring — 
God's  herald  of  the  coming  King  ? 


78  REVERIES. 

"Repent  and  be  baptized  —  prepare  ! 

For  after  me,  there  cometh  One 
Whose  shoes  I  may  not  worthy  bear; 

And  who,  when  He  in  pow'r  doth  come, 
Will  purg-e  His  floor,  and  g*ather  in 
His  precious  wheat  into  God's  bin, 
But  will  the  chaff  with  fire  destroy !"  — 
Thus  spake  this  Heavenly  envoy. 

"With  water  I  indeed  baptize. 

But  He  that  cometh  after  me, 
The  Holy  Ghost — Heaven's  richest  prize, 

In  baptism  will  bestow  on  thee  !" 
And  all  Jerusalem  went  out. 
And  Jordan's   reg'ion,  round  about, — 
The   Pharisee   and    Sadducee 
E'en  soug'ht  the  coming*  wrath  to  flee. 

A  hush  fell  on  the  waitinor  throng-, 

A  potent  influence  filled  the  air. 
The  birds  had  ceased  their  choral  song-. 

Expectant  hearts  were  quivering-  there; 
Yet  none  knew  why,  till  from  the  press, 
A  manly  form  of  sweet  address 
The  herald  soug-ht,   to  meekly  crave 
The  baptism  he  the  people  g-ave. 


RKVERIES.  r) 

*'0  Son  of  God  !  why  coniest  thou 
To  be  this  day  baptized  of  me? 
More  fitting-  far,  that  I  should  bow 

To  earth,  and  be  baptized  of  Thee  !" — 
*'  'Tis  He — Messiah  !    He  is  come  !" 
In  thrilling-  whispers  breathed  each  one; 
And  hearts,  aw^e-stricken,  bent  in  prayer  : 
The  gates  of  Heaven  had  opened  there. 

But  Christ  replied  —  for  it  was  He  ; 

"Nay,  suffer  it  to  be  so  now! 
Since  in  this  way  fulfilled  may  be 

All  rig-hteousness,  therefore  I  bow!" 
And  Jordan  g'ained  new  honor  that  day, 
Thoug-h  He'd  no  sins  to  wash  away  ; 
Hence  sacred  is  that  stream  to  those 
Who  in  His  promises  repose. 

But  if  amazed  at  first,  the  throng-, 

What  wonder  filled  them  as  they  g-azed: 
The  birds  of  air  brake  forth  in  song-, 

And  as  all  eyes  to  Heaven  were  raised. 
Behold  !  its  g-ates  were  swung-  ajar. 
And  swift  descending-,  like  a  star, 
A  spotless  dove  of  purest  white. 
Came  darting*  down  a  beam  of  lig-ht. 


80  REVERIES. 

As  panting-  on  His  breast  it  lay, 

While  from  the  water  He  withdrew, 
They  heard  a  voice  from  Heaven  say, 

"This  is  My  Son,  beloved  and  true  ! 
In  Him  I  am  well  pleased  !" — and  then 
There  rose  one  solemn,  deep   amen  !  — 
That  hour  the  Son  of  Rig-hteousness 
Went  forth  the  waitino'  World  to  bless. 


Mother  ,  Home  ,  Heaven  . 

In   beatific  strains,   these  three 
Mig-ht  well  eng-ag'e  the  minstrelsy, 

Of  all  this  mundane  sphere. 
Inert  that  heart,  and  cold  indeed. 
Whose  pulse,  responsive,  g'ives  no  heed, 

These  sacred  words  to  hear. 

My  Mother !    how  that  holy  name. 
Across  the  chasm  of  sin  and  shame. 

Which  I  have  placed  between  ; 
Comes  to  me  on  the  morning-  air. 
And  throug-h  the  sultry  noonday  g-lare. 

And  in  my  midnig-ht  dream. 


REVERIES.  81 

The  world  has  cast  adrift  her  boy, 
His  heart  is  hard,  and  there's  no  joy 

That  thrills  his  callous  breast; 
But  messao'es  of  love  still  come 
From  Mother,  in  the  dear  old  home, 

Inviting-    to   its    rest. 

To  rest  at  Home  !    Ah,  can  it  be. 
That  'neath  the  dear  Old  Family  Tree, 

I'll    sit   ag-ain  —  forgiven? 
And  kneeling-  by  my  mother's  side, 
Relinquishing-  my  stubborn  pride. 

Start  out  anew,  for   Heaven  ? 

That  land  of  endless  peace  and  joy. 
Where  streams  of  bliss  without  alloy, 

Flow   ever   to   the   blest ; 
Where  souls  from  sin  find  a  release. 
The  wicked  from  all  troubling-  cease. 

The   weary   are   at   rest. 

Away !    false  pride  and  sin,  away ! 
No  more  unto  your  blighting-  sway. 

Yield   I,  a   devotee  ! 
But  guided  by  a  mother's  hand. 
At  home,  I'll  seek  that  Better  Land  — 

I  make  my  choice,  THESE  THREE  ! 


82  REVERIES. 


IN   CHARITY. 
SI.  John,    Chapt.  viii. 

A  lithe  and  graceful  form,  in  comely  robe, 
With  g-olden  tresses  that  now  half  concealed 
A  face,  tho'  weak,  yet  very  fair  and  sad. 
Where  shame  o'er  innocence  exultant  rode 
On  blushes  hot,  that  tears  could  not  efface; 
Her  sin,  a  yielding'  to  the  tempter's  voice. 
Her  shrewd  accusers,  with  a  purpose  hid, 
Had  led  her,  sorrowing-,  on  that  lovely  morn, 
Unto  The  Temple,  where  the  Savior  taught, 
That  from  His  kindly  lips  they  mig'ht  report 
A  verdict  adverse  to  the  Jewish  law. 

As  teaching-,  on  His  words  the  people  hung*, 
And  g-lad  received  the  bread  of  life  He  brake, 
Those  wily  Pharisees  their  captive  broug-ht, 
And  placed  her  in  the  midst. —  "O  Master  ! 
This  frail  one  now  before  Thee,  we  accuse 
Of  conduct,  whereof  Moses'  sacred  law 
Decrees  the  guilty  culprit  must  be  stoned: 
What  sayest  Thou  ?" — He  saw  th'intent. 
And  bendino-  o'er,  with  iino-er  listless  wrote 


REVERIES.  83 

upon  the  earth,  as  if  He  heard  them  not. 
Persisting"  still  for  answer,  He  looked  up, 
And  with  a  calm  indifference  to  them  spake  : 
*'He  that  is  sinless  now  among-  you  all, 
Let  him  be  first  to  cast  at  her  a  stone  !" — 
And  then  He  wrote  ag*ain  upon  the  sand. 

What  accusations  smote  those  crafty  hearts  : 
What  memories  of  the  recreant  past  arose. 
How  in  their  souls  His  words  burned  deep; 
And  thoug*h  His  eyes  to  earth  were  turned, 
Yet  how  they  felt  Him  read  each  sinful  life, 
And  closely  scan  the  failing-  each  would  hide. 
With  self-accusing-,  they  in  turn  went  out, — 
The  eldest  first,  and  thus  on  to  the  last ; 
And  Jesus,  left  alone,  rose  up  and  saw 
The  woman  standing  in  the  open  space. 
The  tearful  eye,  the  contrite  sig'h  and  moan, 
His  kindly  heart  with  deepest  pity  moved ; 
And  looking-  back  upon  her  past.  He  saw 
The  tempter  strong-  assail  the  weaker  will, 
And  thus  —  and  thus,  she  fell. 

In  calm,  benignant  tone,  the  Savior  spake : 
*'0  Woman  !  whence  are  thine  accusers  fled? 
Hath  720  man  condemned  theef  — 


84  REVERIES. 

"Nay  Lord,  no  man  !"  she  passively  replied. 
^^ Neither  do  I  eoiideDDi  ihee!    Go  thy  zjay, 
(tint  sui  }io  more  /" 


"Suffer  Littee  Chiedren — " 
St.  Mark,  Chapt,  x. 

Why  trouble  ye  the  Master  now? 
Can  ye  not  see  that  on  His  brow 
There  rests  a  look  of  wan  distress, — 
That  He  is  faint  w  ith  weariness  ? 

Why  bring-  the  little  ones  to-day? 
Far  better  leave  them  at  their  play; 
With  joyous  health  their  faces  g-low^ 
Those  ruddy  forms  no  suffering-  know  ! 

But  see  ye  not  the  blind  and  lame, 
The  palsied  who  for  healing-  came, 
The  sick  ones  moaning*  their  distress  ? 
These  all    now  on  the  Master  press. 

And  wotild  ye  add  unto  His  task, 
By  pressing-  forward,  but  to  ask 
A  blessing-  on  those  little  heads. 
On  whom  your  love  its  blessing-  sheds? 


RKVERIES.  85 

'Twas  thus  the  kind  disciples  spake, 
And  stayed,  for  their  dear  Master's  sake, 
The  mothers,  who  with  pious  zeal 
Came  at  the  Savior's   feet  to  kneel. 

He  heard,  and  as  that  careworn  face 
To  look  of  tenderest  love  g-ave  place, 
With  open  arms,   in  thrilling*  voice. 
He  bade  those  mother's  hearts  rejoice  : 

*'0  suffer  ye  the  little  ones! 
Forbid  them  not,  but  let  them  come  ! 
Of  such  is  Heaven's  king-dom  fair! 
No  other  g-ems  of  earth,  so  rare  ! 

* 'Except  your  hearts  like  theirs  become. 
Ye  cannot,  when  life's  work  is  done. 
Join  in  the  anthems  of  the  blest. 
In  that  Eternal  Land  of  Rest!" 

And  in  His  loving-  arms,  w^ere  laid 
The  cherub  boy,  and  tiny  babe  ; 
And  g-ently  on  each  little  head, 
A  blessing-,  from  His  lips,  w^as  shed. 


86  REVERIES. 


The  Modern  Samaritan. 
[^Adapted  from  Lukt%  x.) 

A  certain  man  went  down  to  York  — 
Perhaps  to  see  the  busy  town  — 

Perhaps  he  w^ent  in  search  of  w^ork  : 
But  certain  'tis,  he  ran  ag-round, 

Among-  the  thieves  of  York. 

At  midnig-ht  hour  they  gfave  him  beer, 
Envenomed  with  vile  ''knockout  drops;" 

They  beat  him  to  his  death,  quite  near, 
Then  robbed  him  of  his  purse  and  watch. 
And  threw  him  in  the  street. 

The  sun,  next  morning-,  rose  less  clear. 
And  looked  in  pity  on  the  scene. 

While  Nature  stooped  to  drop  a  tear 
O'er  him,  ^^ho  all  his  life  had  been 
An    honest    workingman. 

A  deacon  of  a  church  up-town, 

Came  rolling-  by,  in  tli'  morning"  gray — 


REVERIES.  87 

He  saw  the  man,  and  with  a  frown, 
Quick  reined  his  steed  across  the  way. 
And  passed,  on  the  other  side. 

A  learned  "d.  D."came  next  along*  — 
A  man  who  from  the  sacred  desk. 

Essays  to  prove  by  log'ic  strong". 
That  God's  own  Book  is  not  the  best 
That  could  have  been  produced: 

He  saw  the  bruised  and  prostrate  form. 
Yet  raised  no  kindly  hand  to  aid  ; 

But  turned  away  with  look  of  scorn, 
And  passing-  by,  contemptuous  said, 
"It  is  the  work  of  Rum!" 

Next  came  a  coal  man,  with  his  cart, 
Whose  face  the  g-rime  of  labor  bore  ; 

Yet  'neath  whose  coat,  there  beat  a  heart 
As  warm  as  human  breast  e'er  wore  — 
He  paused,  to  view  the  scene. 

That  kindly  heart,  a  fellow   man  — 
A  stranger  saw,   in  deep  distress  : 

A  father,  whose  dear  ones,  e'en  then, 
Mig'ht  waiting-  be  for  his  caress, 

When  he  should  safe  return. 


88  REVERIES. 

With  tender  care  that  son  of  toil 

Knelt  by  the  prostrate  strang'er's  side, 

And  tho'  he  lacked  the  "wine  and  oil," 
Yet  in  his  unskilled  way,  he  tried 

To  bind  the  wounds  disclosed. 

With  careful  hand,  he  placed  him  in 
His  humble  cab,  and  drove  away; 

That  in  his  own  home,  he  mig'ht  win 
Him  back  to  life  ag-ain,  that  day. 

And  spare  him  to  his  friends. 

Which  now,  was  neig-hbor — of  the  three. 
To  him  that  fell  among-  the  thieves  ? 

Sure  he  that  mercy  showed,  must  be 
The  man  who  in  your  heart  receives 

The  verdict  —  one  day  prized! 

That  day,  when  at  His  just  decrees. 
Men  from  before  His  face  shall  flee: — 

''^For  i)iasm2ich  as  not  to  these ^ 
Ye  likezvise  did  it  not  to  3Ie, — 

Depart  !  I  know  you  not  !" 


REVERIES.  89 


The  Rescue,  and  the  Saved. 

Nig-ht's  shadows  rest  upon  the  deep, 
The  earth  is  wrapt  in  sleep  profound  ; 

While  angel  bauds  their  vig'ils  keep, 
The  watchman  walks  his  lonely  round. 

A  lurid  lig-ht  attracts  his  gaze  — 
"Sure  that  is  not  the  waning-  moon !" 

Still  brighter  grows  the  humid  haze  — 
*'Has  morning  dawn  arrived  so  soon?" 

'Tis  Fire  !  Fire!  Some  home's  on  fire  ! 

Call  the  brave  laddies  for  the  fight ! 
Its  flames  are  leaping  hig-h  and  higher — 

Quick  lads!  a  home's  in  flames  to-night ! 

The  fight  is  on  —  the  swish  and  hum, 
The  hiss  of  steam,  and  shouts  of  men. 

Proclaim  the  conflict  has  begun  — 
But  hear  that  cry — ag-ain  !    again  ! 

It  breaks  upon  the  midnig'ht  air, 

In  thrilling  tones,  and  accents  wild  — 


90  REVERIES. 

"My  child  is  up  that  burning-  stair  ! 
Oh  save  !  oh,  save  my  darling*  child  !" 

"I'll  g'o  !  I'll  g-o  !"  a  brave  lad  cries  : 

"Boys,  keep  a  stream  lig-htly  cm  me  !" — 
With  eag-er  haste,  aloft  he  hies. 
The  flame-imprisoned  child  to  free. 

Oh  dread  suspense  ! — But  look —  up  there ! 

The  child,  wrapt  snug-ly  from  all  harm, 
Is  borne  adown  that  blazing-  stair, 

And  safely  laid  in  its  mother's  arms. 

A  shout  g-oes  up,  but  the  "Well  done  !" 
Thrills  not  the  hero's  failing-  ear  ; 

The  burned  and  dying-  form  sinks  dow^n, 
While  ang-els  bend,  these  words  to  hear: 

'  'Mother ! —  Savior ! —  coming- ! —  com  — ' ' 
And  flown  to  Him  by  whom  'twas  g'iven, 

A  hero-soul  —  its  life  work  done, 

Has  joined  th'  ang-elic  hosts  of  Heaven. 


REVERIES.  .  91 


Lazarus  The  Beggar. 
^7.  Luke,  Chapt.  xvi, 

'Twas  noon  —  a  summer  day. 
The  balm}"  air,  with  f rag-rant  odors  filled, 
Moved  lazily,  and  thro'  the  gfraceful  palms 
Soft  sig-hed  to  murmur  of  the  crystal  fount, 
Where  birds  of  colors  g-ay  the  pinion  laved, 
Disporting- in  the  rainbow-tinted  spray; 
And  ever  and  anon,  with  voice  refreshed. 
Ascended  to  the  leafy  bowers  o'erhead. 
To  warble  forth  their  notes  of  joyful  praise. 
While  from  within  the  stately  palace  walls, 
In  dulcet  strains,  the  notes  of  lute  and  harp 
Stole  on  the  ear;  and  din  of  hurrying-  feet. 
And  clink  of  wares,  and  odors  of  choice  fare. 
Bespoke  the  rich  man  at  his  midday  feast. 

Two  massive  columns  stood. 
Superb  in  marbles  graced  by  sculptor's  art. 
Like  sentinels,  on  either  side,  to  g-uard 
The  entrance  to  this  passing-  fair  domain  ; 
And  cedars  from  historic  Lebanon's  g-roves. 
Lent  a  rich  shading;  to  th' enchanting-  scene. 


92  REVERIES. 

While  all  within  of  lavish  bounty  spake, 
The  beg'o-ar  Lazarns,  huno-ered,  lay  outside, 
Desiring  to  be  fed  of  th'  crumbs  that  fell 
Beside  the  rich  man's  board.  But  all  in  vain; 
And  only  canine  strays  their  pity  showed, 
As  at  the  g-ate  he  breathed  his  plaint. 

That  nig-ht  the  beg-g^ar  died  — 
Or  wdiat  we  all  call  death,  his  pulses  stilled. 
But  Lazarus  woke  in  Paradise.    And  there. 
With  early  vig-or  health  and  hope  renew^ed— 
No  pang-s  of  hung-er  g-nawing*  at  his  heart. 
No  spurning-  of  the  haugfhty  rich  man's  foot, 
He  breathed  th'  inspiring-  air  that  flows 
O'er  sether  plains  w^ith  healing-  on  its  wing's; 
And  basking*  in  elysian  fields,  bestrown 
With  beauties  rare, unto  the  earth  unknown. 
His  thirst  allayed  at  limpid  fountains  pure  ; 
While  noble  men  sincere,  and  women  true, 
The  hand  of  fellowship  most  cordial  g'ave: 
And  one  of  royal  mien  —  e'en  Abraham, 
Became  his  bosom  friend. 

Secure,  with  g'oods  laid  up  for  many  years, 
In  pompous  ease  the  rich  man  sat,  composed; 
Nor  deemed  that  aug-ht  could  mar  his  peace, 


REVERIKS.  93 

Within  those  palace  walls.    O  vain  conceit  ! 
One  day  the  angel  Death,  a  shaft  let  fly, 
And  thro'  the  walls,  it  pierced  his  iron  heart; 
And  sinking-  down,  he  died,  as  dies  the  least, 
The  lowest  thing-  on  earth,  at  God's  decree. 
But  in  the  realms  of  pain  his  soul  awoke  ; 
And  seeing'  Lazarus  from  afar,  implored 
His  royal  friend  to  send  him  to  his  aid. 
That  he  might  soothe  his  woes. 

But  Abraham  replied  ; 
"Remember,  Son!  that  in  thy  lifetime  thou, 
Ungrateful  all  thy  bounties  didst  receive, 
While  unto  him  whose  services  ye  crave. 
Came  only  evil.     He  is  happy  now. 
While  thou,  reciprocal,  his  pains  dost  bear. 
Besides,  unlike  as  in  our  former  sphere, 
A  bound  impassible  is  strictly  set 
Betwixt  the  good  and  ill;    so  that  none  may 
To  thee  go  hence,  or  thou  come  thence." 

Imploring  still,  the  rich  man  further  spake: 
*'A  warning  to  my  brothers  yet  on  earth 
I  fain  would  send,  lest  they  come  also  here  ! 
Oh,  grant  some  child  of  light  may  bear 
A  message  to  them  there!"  In  tender  tone 


91-  REVERIES. 

God's  saint  replied,  "They  have  the  boDks 
Of  Moses  and  the  Prophets  for  their  gaiide; 
Scarce  would  they  heed  one  from  the  dead, 
If  not  the  warning's  that  the  Prophets  g-ave" 
And  thus  the  colloquy  was  closed. 


The  following"  lines  were  sug'gfested  by 
the  reply  of  Hon.  James  G.  Blaine,  candidate 
for  President  of  the  United  States  of  Amer- 
ica, in  1884,  to  the  inquiry  as  to  whether  or 
not  he  was  a   Catholic. 

The  Lamp  Stile  Burns. 

What   soiig'ht   they    thus   afar? 

Brig-ht  jezvels  of  the  mine  f 
The  wealth  of  seas  f  the  spoils  of  zvar? 

They  soiig'ht  a  faith's  pure  shrine. 
Aye!  call  it  holy  g-roiind — 

The  soil  zuhere  first  they  trod; 
And  stainless  left  what  there  they  found , 

Freedom    to    zv  or  ship    God ! 

Mrs.  He  mans. 


RKVERIES.  % 

And  has  that  sacred  trust 

Been   guarded    faithfully, 
And  saved  from  time's  decay  and  dust, 

By  the  sons  born  of  the  Free  ? 
Or  has  the  flig*ht  of  years. 

And  bitter  war  of  creeds, 
Despoiled  the  temple,  laid  in  tears, 

And  reared  by  noblest  deeds? 

Has   that   intolerance   dire, 

From  which  they  fled  before. 
Quenched  out  the  sacred  beacon-fire. 

Left  brig-ht  on  Plymouth's  shore? 
Or    burns    there   yet   upon 

Columbia's    holy   shrine. 
That  Lamp  of  Hope,  hailed  by  men  from 

The   lands   of   every   clime  ? 

Three    centuries  —  almost, 

Have  flown,  since  first  was  heard. 
Along-  that  stern  and  rock-bound  coast, 

Those  hymns  the  echoes  stirred  ; 
But  that  the  lamp  still  burns, — 

The  hope  of  the  distressed. 
Who  toward  its  radiance  g-ladly  turn, 

From   every   land    oppressed  ; 


95  REVERIES. 

Recall  the  words  of  him  — 

Columbia's    g-ifted  son  ; 
Whose  fame,  which  time  can  never  dim, 

Is    more  than  victory  won. 
Whose  faith  in  thing-s  divine, 

Draws  not  the  narrow  bound, 
But  looks  the  works  of  g*race  to  find 

Wherever  church  is  found  : 

*'A    Presbyterian   staid. 

My  sire,  of  the  olden  line  ; 
My  mother's  vows  were  daily  paid 

At  the  Holy  Virg'in's  shrine. 
In  the  church  paternal,  learned 

I  first  from  out  the  Word; 
And  later,  to  that  fold  I  turned, 

To  worship  there,  the  Lord. 

"Yet    not   for   all    there    be 

In  the  Presidential  name, 
(Thoug-h  g-iven  a  thousand-fold  to  me,) 

Of   honor,  wealth,  and    fame, 
Would   I   offences   g*ive. 

Or  rash  that  faith  deride. 
By  which  my  mother  sweetly  lived. 

In  which  she  peaceful  died." 


CHAPTER  IV, 

IvIJ'E   ON    THE   FARM. 

When  I  returned  from  the  war,  1  took 
up  teaching"  ag'ain  for  a  time,  but  my  parents 
were  g'etting-  old,  and  I  was  needed  at  home; 
and,  in  keeping-  with  a  vow  I  made  when  re- 
covering" from  a  serious  sickness,  while  in 
my  country's  service,  I  responded  to  the 
call  of  filial  duty. 

During'  those  days  of  convalescence  aboard 
ship,  I  fell  to  meditating"  on  the  disappoint- 
ments and  heart-aches  I  had  caused  my  par- 
ents, and  that  even  then  they  were  sitting- 
lonely  in  the  old  home,  mourning"  for  one  son 
dead,  and  the  other  far  away,  mid  scenes  of 
strife  that  mig'ht  never  g"ive  him  back  to 
them  again;  and  I  then  made  the  vow,  that 
whatever  my  tastes  and  aspirations,  if  I  ever 
reached  home  asfain,  I  would  remain  with 
them  throug"h  their  declining"  years. 


98  REMINISCENCES. 

That  vow  was  faithfully  kept.  I  duly 
assumed  the  manao-ement  of  the  farm,  at  the 
same  time  continuing'  my  scientific  studies, 
which  I  am  in  truth  compelled  to  say,  some- 
times received  more  attention  than  the  grow- 
ing- crops.  But  under  my  father's  direction, 
and  profiting-  by  his  advice,  I  made  a  living- 
for  us ^ and  that  was  all. 

Soon  after  deciding  to  settle  down,  I  mar- 
ried a  young-  lady  from  Albany,  N.  Y. — 
Miss.  H.  Alida  Bradt ;  a  granddaughter  of 
Gen.  Garrett  Sager,  who  was  a  prominent 
man  of  his  day,  and  a  large  landholder  in 
the  Hudson  Valley. 

She  was  willing  to  share  with  me,  "Life 
on  the  farm, "and  we  soon  found  ourselves 
members  of  a  very  pleasant  set  of  young- 
married  people, with  whom  we  enjoyed  many 
happy  social  events,  which  are  still  bright 
places  in  our  memory. 

We  indulg-ed  in  parties,  picnics  drives, 
sails  on  the  beautiful  Canadarago  Lake;  and 
having  early  learned  to  play  the  organ,  and 
also  to  read  vocal  music  fairly  well,  I  was 
chosen  for  many  years  to  serve  as  chorister. 


REMINISCENCES.  99 

or  leader  of  the  musical  part  of  otir  church 
service;  and  our  weekly  meetings  for  choir 
practice  were  always  pleasant  occasions. 

Thus  life  ran  smoothly  with  us,  it  being- 
only  diversified  by  my  struggles  and  disap- 
pointments in  the  field  of  invention,  to  which 
reference  is  made  in  the  introductory  pages 
of  this  volume,  and  an  occasional  discovery 
or  triumph  in  the  physical  investigation  I 
was  pursuing.  So  there  is  little  to  relate  of 
interest  to  the  reader,  till  we  come  to  the 
important  event  which  broke  up  this  period 
of  calm,  and  enlisted  me  more  actively  in  the 
cause  to  which  I  have  given  the  best  thought 
and  effort  of  the  best  years  of  my  life. 

Both  of  my  parents  and  my  uncle  were 
dead,  and  my  promise  to  remain  on  the  farm 
no  longer  held  me;  yet  still  I  tarried  in  the 
old  home,  which  was  endeared  to  me  by  so 
many  ties,  old  and  new.  But  a  swift  stroke 
of  Providence  changed  my  course,  which  ap- 
proaches so  nearly  to  the  miraculous,  that 
I  will  recount  the  circumstance  for  the  ben- 
efit of  those  who  no  long-er  believe  that  God 
is  able  to  work  miracles  ;    forgetting   that 


100  REMINISCENCES, 

their  own  bodies,  with  their  various  capa- 
bilities, are  more  wonderful  works  of  his 
hand,  than  those  recorded  events  of  Sacred 
History  which  they  seek  to  discredit. 

A   PERILOUS    INCIDENT. 

The  event  of  which  I  write,  came  about, 
in  thiswise: — My  eldest  son,  then  twelve 
years  old,  and  myself,  seated  on  a  hig-h  load 
of  farm  produce,  were  coming*  down  quite  a 
steep  declivity  in  the  hig-hway,  at  the  foot 
of  which  was  a  broad  and  stony  water-chan- 
nel, spanned  by  a  wooden  bridg-e.  In  making- 
this  descent,  something"  about  the  wag'on 
g-ave  away,  and  the  load  came  ag-ainst  the 
horses,  a  young-  and  spirited  pair,  and  with 
an  uncontrollable  frenzy,  they  dashed  at  full 
speed  down  the  hill. 

On  reaching-  the  bridg-e  the  load  came  in 
contact  with  the  side  railing-,  which  stopped 
the  wag-on  instantly,  freeing*  the  horses,  who 
continued  their  flig-ht,  and  firing-  me,  as  from 
a  catapult,  diag-onally  over  the  railing-  of  the 
bridg-e,  and  on  an  inclined  curve  across  the 


REMINISCENCES.  101 

channel,  ag-ainst  the  base  of  the  opposite 
bridge-pier,  full  forty  feet  from  my  elevated 
place  on  the  load. 

I  was  taken  up  insensible,  and  apparently 
crushed;  and  thoug-h  found  to  be  still  living", 
yet  the  physicians  who  were  called,  consid- 
ering- the  nature  and  extent  of  my  injuries, 
and  the  fearful  force  with  which  I  was  pro- 
jected across  the  chasm  ag'ainst  the  stone 
pier,  could  not  see  how,  in  the  name  of  Sci- 
ence, my  life  could  be  spared. 

But  a  healing-  power  whose  potency  is  no 
less  to-day,  than  when  it  enforced  the  com- 
mand, ** Lazarus,  come  forth!"  blessed  the 
human  ag'encies  employed  for  my  recovery, 
and  to  the  surprise  of  all,  I  was  restored  to 
health  and  streng'th  ag-ain  ;  and  but  for  a 
broken  limb,  which  took  a  little  more  time 
to  mend,  I  might  within  three  w^eeks  from 
the  time  of  the  accident,  have  ming-led  once 
m.ore  with  my  fellow  men. 

But  the  learned  skeptic,  employing-  the 
Irishman's  log-ic,  will  remind  me  that  it  is 
not  the  distance  nor  force  of  the  fall  that  in- 
flicts the  harm,  but  the  mode  and  conditions 


102  REMINISCENCES. 

of  alig-hting- ;  and  that  I  doubtless  struck 
the  soft  side  of  the  pier,  which  spared  me 
from  fatal,  thoug-h  not  from  severe  injuries; 
which  view  of  the  circumstance  would  seem 
to  divest  it  of  its  remarkable  features. 

Assuming'  that  the  modern  log'ician  would 
dispose  thus  readily  of  the  matter,  in  so  far 
as  it  pertains  to  myself,  I  will  now  g'ive  him 
something-  a  little  harder: — My  son  shared 
my  elevated  seat  with  me  when  the  terrible 
shock  came,  and  what  became  of  him  ? 

Driven  by  the  same  impulse,  he  naturally 
went  in  the  same  direction  as  myself,  but 
came  a  little  short  of  the  bridg-e-pier  ag-ainst 
which  I  landed,  and  fell  among*  the  rocks 
and  bowlders  which  covered  the  bottom  of 

the  nearly  dried  up  water-course  ; —and 

from  that  fearful  plioig'c  he  eame  forth  as 
unseat  he  d  as  thoug-h  he  had  si 7)2 ply  fallen 
from  his  bed  into  an  air  pillozj ; — not  even 
a  seratehj  or  rent,  or  a  button  off! 

The  physician  who  attended  me,  and  a 
score  of  other  reputable  people  who  are  liv- 
ing- at  this  writing-,  will  readily  testify  to  the 
truth  of  the  statement  I  have  made;  and  yet 


REMINISCENCES.  103 

the  lang-uag-e  of  approved  wisdom  in  the 
present  ag-e  is,  that  all  results  are  broug-ht 
about  by  the  undeviating-  operation  of  natu- 
ral laws  — that  like  causes  produce  like  ef- 
fects, and  that  God  cannot,  or  will  not,  at 
any  time  interpose  a  special  providence. 

This  incident  virtually  broug-ht  about  the 
chanox  in  mv  affairs  which  I  had  been  con- 
templating-,  but  lacked  the  decision  to  make. 
I  sold  a  portion  of  the  farm,  retaining  the 
homestead  part,  and  at  the  ag-e  of  forty,  I 
removed  to  a  neig-hboring  village,  and  gave 
my  whole  time  to  the  work  of  my  choice. 

ENTERING   THE   LECTURE  EIEED. 

The  subject  of  Electricity  had,  within  the 
few  years  previous  received  quite  an  impe- 
tus, through  the  practical  development  of, 
and  remarkable  results  obtained  from  the 
telephone  and  the  electric  light.  Other  dis- 
coveries quickly  followed,  which  a  previous 
smattering  of  the  science  in  general,  enabled 
me  to  appreciate,  and  I  soon  fell  to  keeping- 
abreast  with  the  times,  by  carefulW  reading 


104  RKMINISCENCES. 

and  studying-  the  leading-  electrical  journals 
of  the  da}^ 

I  became  so  impressed  with  the  need  of  a 
more  g'eneral  diffusion  of  knowledg-e  on  this 
important  subject,  that  I  was  soon  prepar- 
ing- a  lecture,  which  treated  in  a  plain,  non- 
technical way  on  both  its  theoretical  and  its 
practical  phases,  which  was  completed  in 
due  course  of  time,  and  called,  "Electricity, 
theoretical  and  applied." 

I  decided  to  g-o  before  the  public  with  this 
lecture,  for  the  reason  that  I  believed  in  so 
doing*  I  would  be  imparting-  useful  informa- 
tion, and  mig-ht  also  g-ain  such  experience, 
and  perhaps  financial  return,  as  would  assist 
me  in  the  preparation  and  presentation  of 
the  more  important  work  on  which  I  had 
been  so  long-  erg-ag'ed. 

I  purchased  a  fine  stereopticon  for  illus- 
trating-, of  the  famous  makers,  J. W. Queen 
&  Co.  of  Philadelphia;  securing-  at  no  little 
trouble  and  expense  a  set  of  views  specially 
prepared  to  assist  in  clearly  presenting-  my 
subject,  and  thus  equipped,  I  launched  this 
enterprise  with  zeal  for  its  success. 


REMINISCENCES.  105 

But  my  aridieiices,  tlioug-h  alwa}^^  select, 
were  never  larg-e,  and  I  soon  found  that  this 
lecture,  like  my  present  astronomical  series, 
was  considerably  ahead  of  the  times — the 
people  yet  regarded  electricity  as  something' 
so  subtle  and  mysterious,  that  it  would  be 
utterly  useless  for  them  to  listen  to  any  dis- 
sertation on  it,  much  less  try  to  comprehend 
it;  and  when,  after  illustrating-  and  explain- 
ing- the  wonderful  results  already  attained, 
I  would  soar  to  untried  fields,  by  predicting' 
its  application  to  the  street  car,  and  to  the 
\vorkshop,  and  sug'g-esting-  that  waterfalls, 
river  currents,  &c.  would  yet  be  harnessed 
to  g-enerate  electric  currents  for  transmit- 
ting- their  wasted  power  to  distant  and  more 
desirable  points,  they  just  knowingfly  said, 
*'The  man  is  an  enthusiast,  a  visionary,  a 
crank  !"  and  they  g-ave  me  almost  as  wide  a 
berth  as  the  wise  men  of  to-day  are  giving* 
me  on  the  subject  discussed  in  subsequent 
chapters  of  this  volume. 

But  those  predictions  have  all  been  real- 
ized—  those  wonderful  results  are  with  us 
to-day;  and  thanks  to  the  ing-enuit}^,  skill, 


106  REMINISCENCES. 

and  enterprise  displayed  by  mankind,  when 
once  their  prejudice  is  overcome,  and  their 
interest  aroused,  they  came  sooner  than  even 
I  had  hoped  or  predicted. 

And  yet  the  work  in  this  pDpular  branch 
of  human  achievement  g'oes  on,  while  the  vo- 
taries of  a  still  g-rander  science  are  resting" 
inertly  on  a  theory  whose  tenets  lack  the 
support  of  true  physical  demonstration,  and 
are  antag'onistic  to  the  words  of  Holy  Writ. 

FORTUNE    STILE   COY. 

My  early  estimate  of  the  importance  of 
acquiring'  worldly  means  to  assist  me  in 
promoting'  my  work  was  still  entertained, 
and  learning-,  throug-h  the  electric  journals, 
that  the  public  was  already  becoming-  inter- 
ested in  the  problem  of  operating*  railways 
by  electricity,  I  entered  the  promising-  field 
of  invention  thus  thrown  open,  and  early  in 
the  contest  evolved  an  electric  railway  sys- 
tem, and  applied  for  letters  patent,  which 
were  however  refused  at  first,  on  account 
of  some  technical  error  in  the  application. 


REMINISCENCES.  107 

But  several  months  afterward  I  received 
a  commuuication  from  a  g-entleman  in  New 
York,  informing*  me  that  he  was  one  of  the 
examiners  in  the  electrical  division  of  the 
U.  S.  Patent  Office,  at  the  time  my  applica- 
tion was  taken  up  and  disposed  of;  that  he 
had  since  resig-ned  his  position,  and  appre- 
ciating- the  importance  of  my  invention,  and 
its  just  claims  to  recog-nition,  if  such  claims 
were  properl}^  presented,  he  desired  to  make 
a  business  proposal  for  reopening-  the  case, 
and  prosecuting"  my  claims  to  a  successful 
issue,  for  an  interest  in  the  patent,  when  it 
should  be  g* ranted. 

The  g'entleman's  business  standing-  being- 
found  satisfactory,  I  accepted  his  offer,  and 
he  in  due  time  succeded  in  obtaining-  letters 
patent,  which  embodied  a  good  strongf  set  of 
claims  ;  and  being*  so  early  in  the  field,  we 
naturally  hoped  for  a  bountiful  return  when 
the  reaping-  time  should  come. 

But  as  capital  always  moves  cautiously 
in  the  direction  of  innovations,  little  head- 
way was  made  with  electric  railroading-  for 
several  years  ;  and  in  the  meantime  a  man 


108  REMINISCENCES. 

in  Philadelphia  vset  up  a  counter  claim  to 
priority  of  invention,  and  actually  had  an 
interference  case  declared  between  his  ap- 
plication and  my  existing-  patent,  then  over 
two  years  old. 

We  defended  the  case  before  the  Commis- 
sioner of  Patents,  by  presenting-  a  clear  and 
concise  statement  of  duly  attested  facts;  but 
our  opponent,  aided  by  a  voluble  tong-ue,  a 
lively  imag'ination,  and  an  elastic  conscience, 
won  the  case,  and  Justice  once  more  showed 
that  she  \^as  blind. 

Electric  railways  by  this  time  beg'an  to 
assume  practical  form,  and  considerable  at- 
tention was  being-  g'iven  to  necessary  details. 
Prominently  among-  others,  a  comparatively 
noiseless  and  anti-friction  g'earing  for  trans- 
mitting the  power  from  the  motor  shaft  to 
the  car  axle,  was  soug'ht  for.  I  devised  and 
constructed  a  g'ear  to  meet  these  demands, 
which  I  embodied  in  a  working-  model  of  my 
earlier  railway  s^^stem,  and  came  to  N.  York 
\\  ith  it,  calling-  first  at  the  office  of  the  lead- 
ing- electrical  journal  of  America,  if  not  of 
the  world,  at   that  time. 


REMINISCENCES.  109 

The  proprietors  of  this  journal  commend- 
ed, and  seemed  well  pleased  with  my  work; 
and  on  learning-  that  I  wished  to  exhibit  it 
to  the  various  electric  companies  in  the  city 
which  were  becoming-  interested  in  electric 
railway  systems,  they  kindly  g-ave  me  a  g-en- 
eral  letter  of  introduction,  which  g-ained  me 
a  cordial  reception  wherever  I  went ;  and 
after  considering-  the  matter  for  a  few  days, 
they  became  so  impressed  with  the  value  of 
my  invention,  that  they  offered  to  g-et  it  pat- 
ented and  introduce  it  to  the  public  through 
the  medium  of  their  journal,  for  a  one-third 
share;  which  offer  I  accepted. 

I  returned  to  my  home  in  most  excellent 
spirits,  feeling-  that  a  satisfactory  solution 
of  the  financial  part  of  the  problem  was  well 
nig-h  assured.  My  invention  had  been  seen, 
examined,  and  warmly  commended  by  the 
various  companies  I  visited,  and  I  received 
such  kind  courtesy  at  their  hands,  that  nat- 
urally I  felt  very  much  encourag-ed.  And 
when  the  publishers  of  the  foremost  electric 
journal  of  the  day  decided,  after  a  careful 
examination  as  to  its  utility  and  orig-inality, 


110  REMINISCENCES. 

to  interest  themselves  in  it,  I  could  not  but 
feel  that  my  visit  to  the  metropolis  had 
been  a  hig-hly  successful,  as  well  as  a  pleas- 
ant one. 

I  was  living-  in  the  city  of  Utica,  N.  Y.  at 
the  time,  and  in  a  few  days  after  reaching 
home  I  received  a  neatly  drawn  up  form  of 
application  for  letters  patent,  which  I  duly 
executed  and  returned  to  the  gentlemen,  and 
they  sent  it  at  once  to  the  Patent  Office. 

The  season  was  the  early  Spring-- time , 
and  the  pleasant  days  sped  swiftly  by,  with 
hope  on  their  wing-s.  April  melted  into  May, 
that  month  of  verdure  into  the  ''Month  of 
Roses,"  and  when  the  balmy  air  was  filled 
with  the  mellow  sunlig-ht,  the  perfume  of 
flowers,  and  g-lad  notes  of  song-'birds,  with 
which  my  heart  was  in  happy  tune,  a  mes- 
sao-e  came  one  day,  which  ting-ed  this  brig'ht 
prospect  with  the  leaden  hues  of  December. 

The  communication  was  from  the  Patent 
Office,  and  inclosed  reference-drawing's  and 
description  of  an  earlier  device  slumbering- 
on  the  record,  which  thoug-h  lacking*  those 
practical  essentials  to  success  contained  in 


RKMINISCKNCES.  Ill 

mine,  was  yet  enough  like  it  in  principle,  to 
lead  to  the  rejection  of  my  application  —  and 
another  bubble  was  pierced. 

TRUTH,  O^   HUMBLE   ORIGIN. 

Not  disposed  however,  to  relinquish  the 
strugg'le,  I  renewed  a  correspondence  with 
a  manufacturing-  firm  in  a  neig-hboring*  city 
with  reference  to  another  invention  of  mine, 
and  at  their  invitation  to  visit  them,  set  out 
ag-ain,  with  strong*  hope  of  making-  a  satis- 
factory business  arrangement.  But  failing- 
in  this  also,  I  returned  to  my  home,  there  to 
find  verified  the  old  adage,  that  disappoint- 
ments and  troubles  never  come  singly  —  my 
young^est  son,  a  lad  of  ten  years,  had  lain  in 
a  semi-conscious  state  for  several  hours,  and 
the  physician  who  was  promptly  called,  pro- 
nounced him  dang-erously  sick. 

Swift  transition  for  me,  indeed  !  So  lately 
basking-  in  the  sunshine  of  a  calm,  confident 
and  happy  hope  !  So  soon  sitting-  bowed  and 
broken  amid  its  ruins  ! 

Summoning-  all  my  remaining-  energv,  I 


112  REMINISCENCES. 

quickly  rallied  from  this  three-fold  blow, 
and  with  parental  solicitude  turned  to  the 
rescue  of  my  boy;  and  tho'  the  Dark  Ang'cl 
at  times  hovered  very  near,  yet  his  life  was 
spared,  and  aided  by  the  skilled  and  faith- 
ful physician,  we  slowly  nursed  him  back  to 
health  and  strength  ag-ain. 

Then  I  held  a  council  of  war  (one  member 
present)  for  reviewing-  the  situation.  In  the 
first  place,  a  g'lance  in  the  mirror  revealed 
the  fact  that  I  was  growing-  old  ;  and  view 
the  matter  as  I  would,  I  could  not  deny  my- 
self the  concession  that,  with  the  talents  and 
opportunities  g'iven  me,  I  had  made  a  fairly 
g-ood  fi^ht  for  the  worldly  means  which  I 
deemed  so  essential  for  the  preparation  and 
successful  presentation  of  the  important  sci- 
entific work  I  was  pursuing-. 

Then  came  to  me  the  recollection  of  an 
article  I  once  had  read,  in  which  the  author 
cited  historic  facts  to  show  that  nearly  all 
important  truths  have  come  to  the  surface 
throug'h  great  difficulties  and  humble  ag-en- 
cies;  and  I  there  decided  to  g-ive  up  the  fi.g-ht 
for  worldly  pelf,  and  pursue  my  work  with 


REMINISCENCES.  113 

such  aid  as  God  mig-ht  be  pleased,  from  time 
to  time,  to  g-ive  me. 

Finding-  my  ready  money  all  exhausted, 
and  no  way  open  for  me  to  earn  a  living-  in 
the  city,  we  turned  back  to  the  farm  again, 
and  by  working-  early  and  late  for  three  long- 
years,  we  succeeded  in  saving*  a  little  means 
besides  making-  a  comfortable  living-. 

During-  this  time  I  also  prepared  much  of 
the  subject-matter  for  my  series  of  lectures, 
and  beg-an  the  construction  of  physical  appa- 
ratus for  illustrating-  and  demonstrating-  the 
truths  I  wished  to  declare. 

But  desiring-  better  facilities  for  promot- 
ing- this  latter  branch  of  my  work,  I  ag-ain 
removed  to  town  and  soug-ht  employment  as 
a  mechanic,  being-  fairly  skillful  with  tools. 
But  my  efforts  were  unsuccessful  for  many 
weeks;  employment  in  the  busy  towns  being- 
denied  me  with  a  persistency  bordering-  on 
malignity,  as  I,  despondent,  sometimes  felt. 

IN    THE   NIGHT   WATCHES. 

After  a  long-  time  I  succeeded  however,  in 
securing-  the  position  of  nig-ht-  watchman  in 


114  REMINISCENCES. 

a  maiitif actory ;  and  then  I  took  up  my  work 
ag-aiu,  in  connection  with  my  regular  duties, 
with  a  zeal  and  energ^y  that  knew  no  abate- 
ment. With  the  exception  of  two  or  three 
hours'  steady  work  in  the  evening-,  and  as 
much  time  in  the  morning',  I  was  required 
but  to  make  my  hourly  rovmds  of  inspection, 
which  would  take  little  more  than  one  third 
of  the  hour,  and  the  remainder  was  devoted 
to  working-  dilig-enth^  at  the  vise  or  bench, 
by  the  dim  lio-ht  of  a  lantern,  on  my  pros- 
pective set  of  physical  apparatus. 

The  night's  work  ended,  I  would  repair 
to  my  home,  and  after  a  few  hours  of  sleep, 
g-ive  the  remainder  of  the  day  to  the  work  in 
hand;  never  remitting-  my  efforts,  till  after 
many  weeks  I  believed  I  had  enoug-h  of  m,y 
earning-s  laid  b}^  to  enable  me  to  complete 
m}^  preparations,  and  present  the  result  of 
my  researches  to  the  people  in  a  clear  and 
comprehensive  way. 

I  then  g-ave  due  notice  to  my  employers, 
and  g-ave  up  the  position,  to  g-ive  my  ^a  hole 
time  to  the  work.  Eut  I  found  there  was 
still  much  to  do,  and  when  mv  saving's  were 


REMINISCENCES.  115 

running-  low  ag^ain,  to  my  o*reat  surprise  and 
relief,  a  neig-hborinof  manufactory  sent  me 
word  one  day  that  there  was  a  place  await- 
ing" me  in  their  establishment.  This  came 
most  opportunely,  and  was  reg-arded  by  me 
as  a  special  providence,  for  which  I  offered 
sincere  thanks. 

I  entered  at  once  on  my  new  duties,  which 
were  mechanical  day  work  this  time,  and  for 
eight  months,  sick  or  well,  I  stood  at  my 
post,  and  never  lost  an  hour  when  the  works 
were  running-.  Then,  having-  saved  up  some 
more  money,  I  asked  for  leave  of  absence, 
and  putting  the  finishing-  touches  to  my  set 
of  charts  and  physical  apparatus,  I  came  to 
New  York  City  to  present  the  results  of  my 
life  work  in  the  defence  of  scriptural  truth, 
to  what  I  believed  to  be  the  representative 
people  of  the  most  enlig-htened,  most  toler- 
ant, and  most  thoroug-hly  Christian  ag-e  of 
the  w^orld's  history. 

The  result  of  my  visit  has  already  been 
made  known  in  the  introductory  part  of  this 
^vork, — and  is  it  strange  I  came  away  feel- 
ing", in  the  bitterness  of  my  disappointment, 


116  REMINISCENCES. 

that  the  dark  pall  of  big-otry  which  cast  its 
g-loom  over  the  Middle  Ages,  was  as  a  fleecy 
summer  cloudlet,  compared  with  what  I  ran 
ag-ainst  on  that  occasion  ? 

Why  !  in  those  early  days,  men  with  new 
ideas  were  always  accorded  a  hearing',  even 
thoug-h  they  mig-ht  be  adjudg-ed  worthy  of 
imprisonment  or  death  directly  after.  But 
in  this  boasted  ag-e  of  advanced  thoug-ht  and 
cultured  courtesy,  I  was  condemned  without 
an  intellig-ent  hearing*. 


CHAPTER     V. 

THE  '^HIGHER   CRITICISM." 

Up  to  the  time  of  delivering-  my  lectures 
in  New  York,  I  had  gained  no  adequate  con- 
ception of  the  extent  of  the  so-called  "higher 
criticism" — I  did  not  know  that,  except  in 
a  few  notable  instances,  it  had  invaded  the 
sacred  desk;  and  believed  it  was  confined  in 
most  part  to  the  learned  agnostics  of  the 
day,  and  that  the  Christian  church  would 
welcome  as  a  valuable  accessory  an  intelli- 
§-ent  scientific  effort,  directed  ag-ainst  those 
traducers  of  the  Bible;  and  of  125  personal 
invitations  issued,  about  one  half  were  sent 
to  clergymen  in  that  part  of  the  city  where 
my  unattended  lectures  were  g'iven. 

Nearly  a  month  later  I  ho^^  ever  g-ained  the 
audience  of  an  association  of  clerg-ymen  in 
the  city  of  Utica  N.  Y.  ,  and  g-ave  them  an 
abridg-ment  of  my  two  astronomical  lectures 


118  HIGHER    CRITICISM. 

entitled, "Nature  versus  Copernicus."  And 
while  most  of  those  colleg-e-bred  men  mani- 
fested a  deep  —  some  of  them  an  intense  in- 
terest in  my  discourse,  and  tendered  me  a 
vote  of  thanks  at  its  close,  3^et  I  never  heard 
that  any  word  of  commendation  was  g*iven 
to  the  public,  other  than  the  brief  comment 
of  the  daily  press;  and  several  months  later 
one  of  Utica's  clero-y  delivered  a  Sunday 
afternoon  discourse  before  the  Y.M.C.A.  of 
that  city,  in  which  he  essa3'ed  the  scientific 
demolition  of  one  of  those  g'rand  miracles  of 
the  Old  Testament,  w^hich  I  make  a  strong: 
point  of  in  my  first  lecture,  "The  Bible  vs. 
Copernicus." 

I  criticised  the  g-entleman  *s  untenable  po- 
siti(m  in  the  following*  newspaper  article, 
and  the  animus  of  the  hig'her  criticism  may 
be  inferred,  I  think,  from  his  declaration  of 
principles,  in  the  controversy  which  ensued, 
as  g-iven  verbatim,  in  this  connection  : 

Editor  Utica  Daily  Press: 

I  learned,   through  a  yesterday's    Utica 
paper,  that  one  of  3'our  esteemed  townsmen 


HIGHER    CRITICISM.  H^) 

delivered  a  lecture  in  Association  Hall  Sun- 
day afternoon,  4tli  inst.  on  Joshua  command- 
ino-  the  sun  and  moon  to  stand  still  —-  and 
my  Bible  says  they  obeyed  him;  but  the  re- 
port makes  the  reverend  g-entleman  say  that 
this  was  only  so  in  appearance — that  what 
God  really  did  was  to  so  increase  the  density 
of  the  atmosphere  that  its  g-reatly  increased 
refractive  powers  kept  the  sun  apparently 
elevated  far  above  its  true  position  in  the 
heavens,  and  what  seemed  to  ordinary  minds 
a  miracle,  was  really  only  the  result  of 
natural  laws. 

With  all  due  deference  to  the  learned 
g-entleman's  opinion,  but  with  g-reater  def- 
erence to,  and  reverence  for  the  Old  Book, 
than  for  any  man's  opinion,  I  will  briefly 
review  this  explanation  of  what  the  Chris- 
tian world  has  always  regarded  as  one  of  the 
g-randest  miracles  of  the  Bible, 

The  text  of  this  event,  found  in  the  Book 
of  Joshua,  10th  chapt.  12th  and  13th  verses, 
says  that  in  obedience  to  Joshua's  command 
"The  sun  stood  still  in  the  midst  of  the 
heavens,  and    hasted    not    to    g-o    down   for 


120  HIGHER    CRITICISM. 

about  a  whole  day."  Scientific  authorities 
ag-ree  that,  in  its  ordinary  state,  the  max- 
imum of  refraction  of  our  atmosphere  (which 
is  at  the  horizon,)  is  about  35'  of  arc,  or  a 
little  more  than  one-half  a  deg-ree.  Now,  if 
we  admit  that  according*  to  the  Bible  record, 
the  sun  appeared  to  the  Gibeonites  to  stand 
still,  or  remain  in  one  place  "about  a  whole 
da}^"  but  really  did  not  slack  in  its  course, 
it  would,  in  12  hours  after  Joshua's  com- 
mand was  g-iven,  either  by  its  own  motion, 
or  the  earth's  rotation,  or  both,  have  been 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  earth,  and  the 
refraction  necessary  to  make  it  still  appear 
over  Gibeon,  would  have  been  180 -',  which 
would  virtually  be  turning"  the  sun's  rays 
back  on  themselves. 

But  if  we  take  the  position  that  the  Bible 
is  mistaken  about  the  sun's  appearing"  to 
"stand  still,"  and  that  its  progress  only  ap- 
peared retarded,  then  if  we  assume  that  it 
really  made  its  usual  progress  throug-hout 
the  day,  and  that  one  half  of  this  was  turned 
back  b}^  refraction,  we  would  still  have  90^ 
of  refraction. 


HIGHER    CRITICISM.  121 

Since  however,  we  have  broken  away 
from  the  scriptural  text,  let  us  be  still  more 
liberal  in  our  speculations,  and  assume  that 
the  sun  apparently  fell  behind  by  refraction 
only  one-fourth  of  its  regular  12  hours'  prog-- 
ress  on  that  eventful  day;  this  would  yet 
require  an  atmosphere  having-  a  refractive 
power  of  45°,  which  would  be  77  times 
g'reater  than  the  maximum  of  refraction  of 
our  atmosphere  in  its  natural  state;  (which 
is  35 ' )  and  much  g-reater  than  that  of  any 
§*aseous,  or  even  liquid  medium  known  to 
Science. 

If  it  were  possible  to  produce  an  atmos- 
phere of  sufficient  density  to  cause  such  a 
refraction,  all  living*  creatures  and  inanimate 
objects  not  firmly  rooted  to  the  earth  would 
float  upward  like  a  loose  cork  in  the  bottom 
of  the  sea,  and  far  more  disastrous  results 
to  mankind  would  be  likely  to  ensue,  than 
by  the  temporary  halt  of  either  earth  or 
sun,  or  both,  when  restrained  by  the  gfuid- 
ing-  hand  of  Omnipotence. 

S.     M. 
July  6,   >/. 


122  HIGHER    CRITICISM. 


The  Doctor's  Reply. 

Editor  Utica  Daily  Press: 

The  report  of  my  lecture  was  so  indefi- 
nite and  misleading,  that  I  expected  some 
one  would  take  issue  ^\ith  statements  there 
made.  Reporters  often  fail  to  grasp  the 
truth,  as  uttered,  and  a  partial  statement 
does  not  do  justice  to  the  speaker,  even  when 
it  does  not  misrepresent  him. 

Mr.  Miller  evidently  believes  that  the 
earth  was  arrested  in  its  motion  on  its  axis, 
and  that  in  place  of  the  sun  standing  still, 
in  appearance,  it  did  actually  do  so,  and  that 
this  miracle  lasted  through  a  whole  day,  and 
on  this  basis  he  does  a  wonderful  amount  of 
philosophizing. 

Parties  who  pin  their  faith  to  a  literal 
understanding  of  our  E^nglish  translation  of 
the  Bible,  often  get  into  a  fearful  muddle. 
Mr.  Miller  regards  our  translation,  we  sup- 
pose, as  a  divinely  inspired  one,  without  er- 
rors or  mistakes.  With  those  who  so  regard 
it,  we  can  have  no  argument;  their  faith,  or 


'    HIGHER   CRITICISM.  123 

superstition  is  so  immense  that  nothing-  can 
meet  it.  Only  one  thing-  is  possible,  to  allow 
them  to  think  as  they  please,  and  comfort 
themselves  with  their  ig'norance.  The  men 
who  once  believed  that  the  world  was  flat 
and  did  not  move,  were  the  only  wise  men 
on  earth,  according*  to  their  own  estimation, 
and  the  faith  of  the  times  in  which  they 
lived.  The  trouble  of  Mr.  Miller  and  many 
others  arises  from  their  misunderstanding" 
of  the  clause  in  the  13th  verse  of  the  10th 
chapter  of  Joshua,  where  it  reads  :  **So  the 
sun  stood  still  in  the  midst  of  heaven,  and 
hasted  not  to  g-o  down,  about  a  whole  day." 
The  sentence  "About  a  whole  day,"  should 
be  rendered,  thoug^h  the  day  was  whole,  or 
finished,  or  ended.  The  idea  of  the  sentence 
is,  the  sun  did  not  g-o  down,  althoug-h  the 
day  was  finished. 

At  a  certain  time  of  the  month  the  sun  is 
about  to  set;  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  ho- 
rizon the  moon  is  just  rising*;  this  w^as  the 
condition  when  Joshua  desired  that  the  sun 
should  not  set,  until  his  enemies  were  thor- 
oug-hly  defeated,  and  the  sun  hasted  not  to 


124  HIGHER   CRITICISM. 

go  down,  thoug'h  the  day  was  whole,  or  fin- 
ished. The  time  of  the  added  lig-ht  is  no- 
where given  in  the  narrative,  and  is  simply 
an  assumption  of  parties  who  misunderstand 
the  whole  affair.  The  trouble  is  not  with 
the  Bible,  but  with  a  wrong-  interpretation 
of  it.  Ten  minutes,  or  half  an  hour  at  the 
long-est,  was  all  the  time  required.  It  cer- 
tainly did  not  take  Joshua  a  whole  day  to 
defeat  his  already  panic-stricken  foes;  they 
were  just  begfinning-  their  flig'ht,  and  Joshua 
wanted  to  clinch  his  victory  by  following- 
them  and  making-  their  defeat  absolute,  and 
about  15  or  20  minutes  —  or  half  an  hour  at 
the  long-est — was  ample  time  for  all  this. 

Mr.  Miller  has  been  raising-  a  fearful 
g-host,  in  order  to  have  the  pleasure  of 
pounding-  it.  Two  days  of  daylig-ht  tog-eth- 
er, according-  to  his  theory,  would  indeed 
have  been  a  stupendous  miracle;  but  the 
Almig-hty  never  by  miracle,  or  otherwise, 
did  such  a  foolish  thing-  as  to  gfive  two  da3^s 
in  one  fcr  the  accommodation  of  a  few  strugf- 
g-lers  in  Palestine,  at  the  peril  of  the  whole 
solar    system.     He    simply,    by    refraction. 


HIGHER    CRITICISM.  125 

leng-thened  one  day  15  or  20  minutes,  to  ex- 
hibit his  care  for  his  chosen  people  of  Israel. 
He  never  resorts  to  extraordinary  means 
when  simple  measures  will  answer  a  great 
deal  better.  The  object  of  the  lecture  was 
to  show  that  by  the  simple  law  of  refraction 
the  whole  matter  could  be  accomplished 
without  disturbing-  anything-  whatever,  and 
this  was  done  by  charts  and  a  demonstration 
by  experiment,  which,  we  think,  w^as  satis- 
factory to  all  present. 
July  7,  V/- 

The  Author's  Response. 

Editor  Utica  Daily  Press: 

Sincerely  beg-g^ing"  pardon  in  advance  for 
presuming-  to  differ  with  a  disting^uished 
clergfyman  and  scientist  on  biblical  and  sci- 
entific points,  yet  as  a  firm  believer  in  the 
truth  and  inspiration  of  the  Bible,  I  feel 
that  it  would  be  a  dereliction  of  duty,  to 
pass  unansw^ered  the  reverend  g-entle man's 
article  on  "Joshua  and  the  Sun/'  in  this 
mornino-'s  * 'Press. " 


126  HIGHER   CRITICISM. 

A  few  years  ag-o  a  congress  of  the  most 
devout  and  cultured  men  to  be  found  in  all 
Christendom,  assembled  for  a  revision  of  the 
Bible;  into  which,  it  was  believed  by  many, 
some  errors  had  crept,  throug'h  imperfect 
translation.  This  committe  was  composed 
of  the  profoundest  antiquarians,  historians, 
ling'uists  and  theolog'ians,  chosen  from  dif- 
ferent creeds  and  countries;  and  when  their 
labors  were  completed  vvithout  disco vering- 
any  material  errors,  a  grateful  hallelujah 
^vent  up  from  all  Christian  lands,  that  the 
"Old  Book'' stood  justified,  and  that  the 
strong'hold  of  skepticism,  (claims  of  faulty 
translation,)  was  forever  fallen. 

But  in  the  article  which  lies  before  me, 
the  printer  has  it  that  a  portijn  of  the  lOtli 
chapter  of  Joshua  does  not  read  arig'ht,  — 
that  it  should  read  thus  and  so;  —  when  I 
take  up  to-morrow  morning'^s  Press,  I  hope 
I  may  see  notice  of  an  erratum,  sig'ned  by 
the  man  who  set  the  article  up. 

This  article  also  reads  that  the  sun,  in- 
stead of  standing-  still,  obedient  to  Joshua's 
command,  was  simply  retarded,  or  delayed 


HIGHER    CRITICISM.  127 

in  its  settino-,  perhaps  a  half  hour;  possibly 
only  15  minutes.  If  we  read  carefully  that 
portion  of  the  10th  chapt.  of  Joshua  running- 
from  the  15th,  to  the  28th  verse,  we  find 
that  from  the  time  Joshua  commanded  the 
sun  to  stand  still,  to  the  "o-oing-  down  of  the 
sun,"  the  following-  events  transpired  : 

Joshua  and  Israel  returned  to  their  camp 
at  Gilg*al  —  it  took  all  of  the  preceding"  nig'ht 
to  march  up  to  Gibeon,  (see  Joshua,  10  : 9, ) 
and  they  doubtless  took  as  much,  or  more 
time  in  returning-.  They  pursued  their  ene- 
mies with  g-reat  slaug'hter,  till  the  remnant 
took  refug'e  within  their  fenced  cities.  It 
was  told  to  Joshua  that  the  five  king's  of 
the  Amorites  were  hidden  in  a  cave  at  Mak- 
kedah,  and  he  ordered  the  mouth  of  the  cave 
closed,  and  a  g-uard  set;  —  afterward  he 
ordered  the  cave  opened  and  the  king's  bro't 
before  him.  Joshua  then  commanded  the 
captains  of  Israel  to  draw  near  and  place 
their  feet  upon  those  king's'  necks.  This 
order  obeyed,  he  addressed  his  people,  assur- 
ing- them  that  thus  should  the  Lord  do  to 
all  their  enemies ;    and  Joshua  smote  those 


128  HIGHER   CRITICISM. 

kiiig-s  and  slew  them,  and  hang-ed  them  on 
five  trees;  all  this  before  "the  going  down 
of  the  sun  that  Joshua  commanded."  Was 
that  only  a  common  day,  or  is  the  Old  Book 
correct  in  saying",  "There  was  no  day  like 
that,  before  it,  or  after  it?" 

As  I  represented  in  yesterday's  commu- 
nication, the  maximum  of  refraction  of  our 
atmosphere  is  a  little  more  than  one-half  a 
deg-ree  ;  which  is  equivalent  to  a  little  more 
than  two  minutes  of  time.  Then  if,  as  the 
gentleman  surmises,  the  sun  mig'ht  appar- 
ently have  been  delayed  only  15  minutes  in 
setting',  it  would  yet  have  required  a  refrac- 
tion seven  times  g-reater  than  the  maximum 
to  produce  such  an  appearance. 

July  6\  'gy.  ^^-     ^^• 

The  Doctor's  Ultimatum. 

Editor  Utica  Daily  Press  : 

If  Mr.  Miller  so  chooses,  I  am  perfectly 
willing  that  he  should  l>elieve  that  the  sun 
stood  still  for  12  hours,  or  24,  or  any  period 
that  will  satisfv  him.    There  are  some  who 


HIGHER    CRITICISM.  129 

believe  that  he  has  stood  still  ever  since. 
But  Mr.  Miller  will  please  excuse  me  from 
believing  the  absurdity  that  the  Almighty 
ever  ran  two  days  into  one.  The  old  woman 
said  it  made  no  difference  to  her  w^iether 
the  w^hale  sw^allow^ed  Jonah,  or  Jonah  sw^al- 
lowed  the  whale;  if  the  Bible  said  he  sw^al- 
lowed  the  w^hale,  she  w^ould  believe  it  just 
the  same. 

Mr.  Miller  is  willing  only  to  accept  a 
whole  day  for  the  standing*  still  of  the  sun, 
because  he  thinks  the  Bible  says  so,  w^hen 
in  fact  the  Bible  says  no  such  thing.  It  is 
only  the  error  of  his  wrong  interpretation. 
It  says  the  sun  did  not  hasten  to  go  down, 
although  the  day  was  finished,  made  w^hole 
or  perfected. 

Again,  how^  long  Joshua  remained  in  the 
camp  at  Gilg'al,  after  his  return  from  the 
slaughter  of  his  foes,  the  narrative  does  not 
say;  but  probably  long  enough  to  rest  his 
wearied  soldiers,  w^ho  had  been  marching 
the  night  previous  and  fi;4-hting  all  the  next 
day.  The  time  may  have  been  a  day  or  even 
several  days,  before  the  transactions  in  the 


130  HIGHER   CRITICISM. 

l()tli,  and  following-  verses  took  place  ;  but 
Mr.  Miller  huddles  all  these  thing-s  into  the 
l)rief  time  the  sun  stood  still  ;  work  suffi- 
cient for  several  days  at  least. 

In  all  history  periods  of  time  are  very 
imperfectly  gfiven,  and  in  this  case  certainly 
so.  It  was  not  in  human  endurance  for  any 
men  to  stand  such  a  strain  as  Mr.  Miller 
would  put  on  the  soldiers  of  Joshua ,  —  it 
\\  ould  demand  a  miracle  in  each  individual 
person. 

Let  us  remark  that  the  15th  verse  he  re- 
fers to  is  omitted  in  several  manuscripts  ; 
the  Septuag-int  omits  it  altog-ether,  the  An- 
g-lo-Saxon  and  the  ancient  Hexapla  versions 
have  it  not,  and  it  is  no  doubt  a  simple  g-loss 
by  some  late  transcriber.  The  20th  and  21st 
verses  are  much  out  of  place,  and  are  mean- 
ingless \\  here  they  stand  ;  and  the  whole 
chapter  has  been  very  much  mixed  up  by 
transcribers;  and  that  ''learned  cong-ress^' 
of  disting-uished  clergymen,  who  met  to  re- 
vise the  Bible,  to  ^^  hich  Mr.  Miller  refers, 
had  neither  the  ability  nor  courage  to  do 
anything*  with  it,  and  simply  left  it  in  its 


HIGHER   CRITICISM.  131 

g'lorlous  obscurity,  as  something*  they  knew 
nothing'  about.  It  serves  however,  one  good 
purpose  ;  it  shows  how  much  some  persons 
can  believe. 

This  whole  matter,  as  we  stated  in  the 
beg'inning  of  our  lecture  at  the  Y.  M.  C.  A., 
was  not  one  of  ability  on  the  part  of  the  Al- 
mighty, but  one  of  methods.  How  did  the 
Creator  accomplish  the  work,  by  miracle  or 
by  using  the  ordinary  laws  of  matter  ?  We 
think  he  used  the  general  laws,  and  did  ev- 
erything- without  in  any  measure  disturbing 
the  earth  or  the  sun.  Any  other  theory  call- 
ing for  difficulties  without  end,  and  those 
who  defend,  or  attempt  to  defend  the  Bible 
on  other  g-rounds,  simply  hurt,  in  place  of 
helping  their  cause.  As  we  stated  in  our 
first  article,  we  can  have  no  arg*ument  with 
those  who  cling  to  old  and  absurd  methods 
of  interpretation.  Such  * 'Bible  scholars" 
must  simply  die  out.  They  cannot  be  in- 
structed or  converted.  Mr.  Miller  will 
please  excuse  us  from  any  further  consider- 
ation of  this  subject  at  XDresent. 
July  10,  '97,  • 


132  HIGHKR   CRITICISM. 


The  Author's  Finale. 

Editor  Utica  Daily  Press: 

Noticiiio-  in  this  morninof's  Press  that 
the  learned  divine  calls  a  halt,  and  since  we 
have  thus  far  only  been  playing  with  peb- 
bles along'  the  shore,  kindly  permit  us,  in 
conclusion,  to  take  one  hasty  glance  toward 
the  broad  ocean  of  scientific  truth  which,  as 
yet  so  imperfectly  explored,  lies  spread  out 
before  us. 

Respecting  this  scriptural  narrative  of 
Joshua  and  the  sun,  it  has  been  doubtfully 
regarded  by  scientists  indorsing  the  Coper- 
nican  theory  of  the  universe,  for  the  reason 
that  the  sun  being  considered  already  at 
rest  (relatively  to  the  earth's  orbital  move- 
ment,) it  must  therefore  appear  to  us  to 
travel  around  the  earth  wholl}"  on  account 
of  the  earth's  rotation  on  its  axis.  Then 
the  sun  appearing-  to  stand  still  on  Gibeon, 
could  only  have  been  caused  by  the  earth 
ceasing-  to  rotate;  \^  hich  it  is  claimed,  would 
not  onlv  have  had  a  disoro-anizino-  eifect  on 


HIGHER   CRITICISM.  133 

the  whole  solar  system,  but  would  have 
been  hig-hly  disastrous  to  everything*  on  the 
earth's   surface. 

We  are  taug-ht  that  the  earth  has  two 
motions, — its  diurnal  rotation  on  its  axis, 
and  its  annual  revolution  around  the  sun. 
Now,  if  the  earth's  prog'ress  in  its  orbit 
were  dependent  on  its  rotation  —  that  is,  if 
it  rolled  along-  in  its  orbit  like  a  car  wheel 
on  a  railroad  track,  when  it  ceased  rotating- 
its  orbital  motion  would  also  cease,  and  the 
Avhole  system  be  more  or  less  disturbed. 

But  we  find  that  its  orbital  motion  is  far 
more  rapid  than  its  rotary  motion,  and  con- 
sequently independent  of  it;  the  earth  mov- 
ing* in  its  orbit  about  63  times  faster  than  it 
would  if  it  simply  rolled  along-  like  a  ball 
on  a  plane  surface.  Then,  to  stop  its  rota- 
tion on  its  axis,  would  not  necessarily  dis- 
turb its  orbital  movement,  and  would  not 
therefore  disturb  the  order  of  the  S3^stem  to 
\yhich  it  belong's. 

But  would  not  every  thing*  on  the  earth's 
surface  fly  off  at  a  tang^ent  into  space  ?  No, 
for  this  reason  :   The  resultant  of  these  two 


134  HIGHER    CRITICISM, 

motions  of  the  earth,  as  affecting"  any  object 
on  its  surface,  (the  orbital  motion  so  larg-ely 
predominating-)  would  deviate  so  little,  com- 
paratively, from  the  orbital  line,  that  if  the 
earth  simply  ceased  to  rotate  on  its  axis,  the 
slio-ht  chanofe  from  resultant  to  orbital  mo- 
tion  alone,  would  hardly  be  felt  by  its  inhab- 
itants, since  the  absolute  movement  of  any 
g'iven  portion  of  the  earth's  surface  (except 
at  the  poles)  is  never  quite  uniform  throug'h 
the  twenty-four  hours;  its  rotary  movement 
being-  direct,  and  added  to  the  orbital  motion 
at  nig-ht,  or  when  on  the  opposite  side  from 
the  sun,  and  retrog-rade,  and  subtracted 
from  the  orbital  motion  during*  the  day,  or 
when  turned  toward  the  sun. 

If  however,  we  take  the  position  that  the 
astnmomical  plan  outlined  in  the  first  chap- 
ter of  Genesis,  which  would  appear  to  place 
the  earth  in  the  centre,  is  the  correct  one, 
and  that  the  reg-ular  succession  of  day  and 
nig'ht  is  produced  by  the  reciprocal  motion 
of  the  earth  simply  rotating-  on  its  axis  in 
one  direction,  while  the  sun  moon  and  stars 
revolve  slowly  around  it  in  the  opposite  di- 


HIGHER   CRITICISM.  135 

rection,  it  could  make  but  little  difference 
to  the  other  bodies  of  the  system  whether 
the  earth  rotated  on  its  axis  or  not  ;  since, 
being-  permanently  located  at  the  centre,  its 
attractive  influence  would  in  either  case  al- 
ways be  the  same.  And  to  cause  the  sun  to 
stand  comparatively  still  on  Gibeon,it  would 
only  have  been  necessary,  as  in  the  preced- 
ing* fig-ure,  to  g-radually  retard  the  earth's 
rotation  till  it  ceased  turning-  on  its  axis ; 
which  mig-ht  have  been  accomplished  inside 
of  one  hour  w^ithout  disturbing-  the  lig'htest 
leaf  on  any  tree  ;  as  objects,  even  at  the 
equator,  only  move  by  the  earth's  rotation, 
1,040  miles  an  hour,  or  about  26  times  as 
fast  as  an  ordinary  mail  train,  w^hich  can  be 
stopped  without  jolt  or  jar  in  one  minute. 

Pursuing-  this  line  of  thoug-ht,  it  may  yet 
be  found,  on  a  fuller  and  freer  investigation, 
that  true  science  is  in  perfect  harmony  with 
those  portions  of  the  Bible  which  the  hig'her 
critics  w^ould  stamp  as  improbable  and  un- 
true; thereby  unintentionally,  yet  no  less 
certainly,  leading-  men  to  doubt  the  whole. 

July  12,  ^^ J,  S.    M. 


13()  HIGHER    CRITICISM. 


I  made  several  more  efforts  to  g'et  my 
lectures  before  intellig'ent  audiences,  but 
failed  to  secure  any  satisfactory  eng-ag^e- 
ment,  and  most  earnestly  desiring  to  g-ive 
the  results  of  my  work  to  the  public,  I  pre- 
pared a  series  of  short  articles,  treating  in 
concise  lang'uag'e  on  the  physical  facts  I  was 
read}^  to  illustrate  and  discuss. 

These  I  offered,  first  to  astronomers  and 
scientists,  for  examination  ;  but  they  all  de- 
clined to  receive  them,  and  one  of  our  Gov- 
ernment astronomers  declared  plainly  that 
he  would  not  take  time  to  read  any  article 
differing"  with  the  theory  of  Copernicus. 

I  next  tried  the  publishers;  but  they  had 
so  many  beautiful  works  of  sentiment  and 
fiction  on  hand,  awaiting*  publication,  that 
they  could  noh  for  a  moment  consider  a  work 
devoted  to  unpopular,  thoug^h  undeniable 
scientific  truths,  rang-ed  in  defense  of  that 
''Word"^^  hich  is  the  hope  of  the  world. 

The  newspapers  and  periodicals  were 
next  applied  to;  but  they  were  too  deeply 
engrossed  \^  ith  the  affairs  of  the  present,  to 


HIGHER    CRITICISM.  137 

waste  any  thought  on  an  effort  to  correct 
the  errors  of  the  past,  and  establish  on  a 
firmer  basis  the  hope  of  the  future. 

It  will  therefore  be  seen  that  both  my 
lectures  and  my  writing's  have  thus  far  met 
with  a  very  frig-id  reception ;  having  been 
avoided^  not  only  by  the  scientists,  and  the 
self-styled  "higher  critics"of  the  Bible,  but 
by  the  "old  school"  theologians  as  well;  the 
latter  of  whom,  thoug'h  believing  the  Bible, 
are  3^et  content  to  let  theology  and  science 
drift  along  in  their  wonted  channels,  regard- 
less of  the  encroachment  the  one  is  making 
on  the  other;  passively  raising*  the  question, 
*'What  need  of  disturbing*  their  present 
relations?" 

To  such  interrogation  I  would  reply,  that 
man,  dreading  annihilation  and  panting*  for 
immortality,  fondly  hopes,  when  the  rough 
journey  of  this  life  is  ended,  that  he  may 
live  ag*ain,  in  a  higher  and  happier  sphere. 
The  Bible  alone  gives  promise  of,  and  is  his 
only  guide  to  such  a  sphere  —  destroy  its 
authenticity,  and  with  nothing  else  to  fol- 
low, that  hope  perishes. 


138  HIGHER   CRITICISM. 

This  Bible  outlines,  in  a  g-eneral  way,  the 
gTcat  plan  cf  the  universe;  but  in  the  16th 
century  Nicolaus  Copernicus,  a  German  sci- 
entist, physician,  and  divine,  disregarding- 
the  scriptural  plan,  formulated  a  new  and 
entirely  different  one,  which  was  published 
in  1543,  but  was  however  for  many  years 
rejected  by  the  Christian  world,  who  be- 
lieved the  Scriptures  true. 

But  in  1609  Johann  Kepler,  an  eminent 
German  mathematician,  who  enjoyed  the 
confidence  of  the  people,  published  an  in- 
dorsement of  the  theory  of  Copernicus,  with 
some  new  theoretical  laws  of  motion,  which 
would  appear  to  sustain  it,  —  and  the  first 
decisive  step  was  thus  taken  toward  eleva- 
ting- the  science  of  man  above  the  inspired 
Word  of  God. 

And  what  is  the  result?  To-day  the  Old 
Book  is  being-  ruthlessly  assailed  on  every 
hand.  Men,  in  their  vain-wisdom,  would 
tear  line  after  line  and  precept  after  precept 
from  its  pag*es,  and  leave  the  g-rim  shadow 
of  doubt  hang-ing-  over  what  remains.  We 
are  told  the  story  of  Jonah  is  a  mvth,   that 


HIGHER    CRITICISM.  139 

Moses  did  not  write  the  Pentateucli,  and 
that  the  miracles  of  the  Bible  in  g-eneral, 
includiu'^-  the  miraculons  birth  of  our  Lord 
and  Savior,  are  simply  tales  of  fiction. 

Yet  many  of  these  wise  critics  profess  to 
believe  in,  and  love  that  Savior  who,  while 
on  earth,  is  recorded  as  constantly  referring-' 
to,  quoting-  from,  and  indorsing-  the  Scrip- 
tures. And  the  more  they  ig*nore  his  indorse- 
ment, the  more  they  multiply  the  emblems 
of  his  crucifixion  in  their  sanctuaries.  This 
latter,  may  however  be  appropriate. 

And  what  are  we  to  receive  in  return  for 
that  which  they  would  take  from  us?  Only 
the  morbid  satisfaction  of  feeling*  that  some 
of  our  fellow  men  possess  the  extraordinary 
ability  plausibly  to  arg^ue  that  this  Book  of 
promise  and  of  hope  abounds  in  fiction,  and 
is  therefore  unreliable. 

Such  teaching-  must  needs  tend  toward 
the  g-ruesome  conclusion  of  those  morbidly 
wise  men  who  esteem  the  present  all  there 
is  of  life,  the  scriptural  Heaven  a  phantasm, 
eternal  happiness  an  idle  dream  ;  leaving- 
the  dear  ones  g-one  before,  whom  we  have 


140  HIGHER   CRITICISM. 

fondly  hoped  and  prayed  to  meet  agfain,  to 
molder  in  the  damp  earth,  to  which  we,  ere 
lono-,  must  be  consio-ned. 

Is  it  not  time  then,  that  we  retrace  our 
steps,  to  see  if  that  first  step  was  well  tak- 
en ?  Let  us  calmly,  and  without  prejudice 
consider  this  question  in  the  following-  chap- 
ters; keeping"  ever  in  mind  the  important 
lesson  g^ained  from  human  experience,  that 
theory  is  one  thing-,  and  practical  demon- 
stration sometimes  quite  another. 

"//  cannot  he;  each  hope,  each  fear, 

That  lig-hts  the  eye,  or  clouds  the  brozL\ 
Proclaims  there  is  a  happier  sphere 

Thau  this  bleak  zcorld  that  holds  us  novj. 
There  is  a  voice  zvhich  sorrozu  hears, 

Whoi  heavy  zceig-hs  life's  g-alliug-  chaiw, 
'  Tis  Heaven  that  zuhispers — Diy  thy  tears. 

The  pure  in  heart  shall  meet  ag'ain,  " 


LECTURES. 


CHAPTER     VI . 

IvECTURE  I. — THK  BIBI.E  VS.  COPERNICUS. 

With  firm  convictions  of  the  rig-ht,  forti- 
fied by  God's  Holy  Word  and  his  revealed 
Book  of  Nature,  yet  feeling'  keenly  my  own 
inability  to  battle  with  the  learned  of  earth 
backed  by  the  lore  of  centuries,  with  whom 
I  have  taken  issue,  I  find  myself  shrinking- 
from  the  weig-hty  task  which  I  have  set  me. 
And  that  I  must  know  my  testimony  may 
be  rejected,  and  myself  contemned,  weig'hs 
my  courag-e  down,  as  with  a  leaden  pall. 

But  moved  by  a  sense  of  duty,  and  a  hope 
that  the  thoughts  expressed  may  find  a  re- 
sponsive chord  in  some  heart,  and  prove  a 
g-erm  of  truth,  which  may  become  a  power 
in  the  coming  years  for  winning-  men  back 
to  their  primal  faith  in  God,  with  awe  and 


112  LECTURES. 

liumility  I  enter —  dissentino-l}^  tlie  temples 
hallowed  by  the  illustrious  dead,  and  cher- 
ished by  the  profound  li/in^\  But  with 
God's  Word  for  my  g-uide,  and  his  won- 
drous works  for  my  justification,  why  then 
should  I  falter,  thDug-h  men  may  frown  ? 

While  mankind  have  been  movino-  down 
throug"h  the  ag-es,  and  human  wisdom  has 
been  advancing-,  methinks  our  Heavenly  Fa- 
ther, with  displeasure,  sees  the  g^rowing* 
tendency  of  men,  as  they  delve  deeper  and 
deeper  in  the  mines  of  human  knowledg^e,  to 
misconstrue,  combat,  or  even  to  reject  the 
teaching's  of  his  sacred  volume.  But  while 
skepticism  assails  and  science  ig^nores,  the 
soul  redeemed,  with  eye  of  faith  can  pierce 
the  mazes  men  have  wroug'ht,  and  trace  in 
each  inspired  pag-e  the  authorship  divine. 

Where  the  Christian  who,  in  the  first 
raptures  of  his  new-born  existence,  that  has 
not  felt  all  doubts  and  seeming-  inconsisten- 
cies vanish,  and  a  deep  conviction  pervading' 
his  inmost  being-,  that  the  Bible  is  true  ? 
Who  the  dying*  saint,  just  latmching*  out 
from  the  shores  of  time,  and  g-azing"  throug'h 


LECTURES.  143 

death's  portals  toward  the  New  Jerusalem, 
that  has  ever  renounced  his  faith  in  it? 

Thanks  be  to  God,  the  Bible  is  true  !  All 
nature  breathes  it !  Ang'el  voices  hymn  it ! 
The  dying-  witness  to  it !  —  and  we  will  trust 
our  all  upon  it.  O,  we  love  to  believe  the 
Old  Book  true;  it  is  the  anchor  of  our  faith, 
the  day-star  of  our  earthly  existence;  on  its 
precious  promises  hang-  all  our  hopes  of 
Heaven.  Without  it  we  w^ould  be  indeed, 
like  a  lost  ship  on  an  unknown  sea,  without 
chart^  or  compass,  drifting-,  it  knows  not 
whither  ;  or  like  a  shipwrecked  mariner  on 
a  desert  isle,  with  vision  bounded  and  ob- 
scured by  the  black  clouds  of  chaotic  nig-ht 
hanging-  o'er  his  head,  and  the  black  waters 
of  despair  breaking*  at  his  feet. 

Accepting-  it  then  as  true,  and  from  God, 
lest  we  err  in  its  perusal,  let  us  keep  in  con- 
stant recollection  its  last  solemn  warning-, 
and  the  possible  breadth  of  its  application  : 
*'And  if  any  man  shall  take  away  from  the 
words  of  the  book  of  this  prophec3%  God 
shall  take  away  his  part,  out  of  the  Book 
of  Life."     Revelation^  22  :  ig. 


144  LECTURES. 

Reverently,  prayerfully,  let  us  then  open 
at  the  beginning",  and  accept  ^^  hat  we  may 
iind.  As  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis  is  fa- 
miliar to  all,  we  will  refrain  from  a  general 
reading,  inviting  3'our  attention  more  par- 
ticularly to  the  16tli  and  17th  verses,  which 
read  as  follows : 

''And  God  made  two  great  lights;  the 
greater  lig-ht  to  rule  the  day,  and  the  lesser 
lig-ht  to  rule  the  night :  he  made  the  stars 
also.  —  And  God  set  them  in  the  firmament 
of  the  heaven  to  give  light  upon  the  earth.'* 

To  give  light  upon  the  earth  !  Can  this 
be  true  ?  Why,  the  proud  science  of  Astron- 
omy teaches  us  that  this  greater  lig'ht,  the 
sun,  is  the  centre  of  a  system,  around  which 
the  earth,  with  other  planets,  revolves;  the 
earth  being  simply  a  planetary  attendant  of 
the  sun,  and  more  than  a  million  times  its 
inferior  in  size.  But  this  first  chapter  of 
Genesis  appears  plainly  to  imply  that  the 
earth  is  the  centre,  and  that  sun,  moon  and 
stars,  were  created  especially  to  serve  the 
earth,  and  set  in  a  firmament  enveloping  it. 


LECTURES.  145 

True  to  my  convictions,  and  my  faith  in 
God's  Word,  I  shall  assume  that  the  Bible 
is  correct,  and  shall  undertake  to  show,  by 
this  series  of  lectures,  that  Science  may  be 
vjrong'. 

The  7th  verse  of  the  chapter  reads,  "And 
God  made  the  firmament,  and  divided  the 
waters  which  were  under  tlie  firmament, 
from  the  waters  w^hich  were  above  the  firm- 
ament;   and  it  was  so." 

What  do  we  find  in  support  of  this  reve- 
lation ?  The  divine  psalmist,  exhorting-  men 
to  praise  God,  says  in  the  148th  psalm,— 
"Praise  Him  ye  heavens  of  heavens,  and  ye 
waters  that  be  above  the  heavens  !"  Ag-ain 
he  says,  in  the  24-th  psalm, — "The  earth  is 
the  Lord's,  and  the  fullness  thereof  ;  the 
^vorld  and  they  that  dwell  therein :  for  he 
hath  founded  it  upon  the  seas,  and  estab- 
lished it  npo?^  the  floods.''  And  ag-ain  in 
the  29th  psalm,— "The  Lord  sitteth  upon 
the  flood,  etc." 

These  few  passag^es,  and  others  which 
C3uld  be  cited,  tend  to  show  that  whatever 
men  in  modern   times  may  think  of — "The 


14()  LECTURES. 

waters  beyond  the  heavens,"  David  accepted 
the  revelation  in  its  most  literal  sense. 

THE    FLOOD. 

And  why  should  not  that  revelation  be  so 
accepted?  We  read  in  the  7th  chapter  of 
Genesis,  that  after  Noah  and  his  family  had 
entered  the  ark,  "the  fountains  of  the  Great 
Deep  were  broken  up,  and  the  windows  of 
heaven  were  opened,"  causing  it  to  rain  on 
the  earth  till  the  mountains  were  covered. 

Now,  whence  came  this  g-reat  delug-e  of 
waters, —  from  within,  or  from  without  the 
firmament?  Could  the  rains  catised  by  na- 
ture's reg"ular  process  of  evaporation  and 
condensation  of  the  water  already  on  the 
earth,  have  produced  such  an  overwhelming- 
result?  In  a  word,  could  the  world  have 
been  drowned  with  its  own  waters? 

Could  the  water  which  was  on  the  earth 
before  the  flood,  not  only  have  extended  its 
bounds  over  the  whole  earth,  but  actually 
have  swollen  its  own  volume,  and  raised  its 
own  surface  manv  feet  above  the  earth,  till 


LECTURES.  147 

the  mountains  were  covered?  Surely  not  by 
any  natural  process  ! 

Clearly  then,  the  material  for  this  great 
inundation  must  have  come  from  without 
the  firmament  —  shall  we  say  from  "the  wa- 
ters beyond  the  heavens ;"  which  may  be 
the  Great  Deep,  referred  to  in  the  chapter: 
—  presumably  not  reposing-  there  in  liquid 
form,  nor  3^et  perhaps  in  vapor  as  dense  as 
floats  in  clouds  above  the  earth;  yet  zvater, 
nevertheless. 

This  conclusion  also  finds  support  in  the 
words  found  in  the  37th  chapter  of  the  Book 
of  Job;  the  6th  verse  reading-  thus:  "For 
He  saith  to  the  snow.  Be  thou  on  the  earth; 
likewise  to  the  small  rain,  and  to  the  g-reat 
rain  of  His  strength." 

It  will  be  noticed  that  a  marked  distinc- 
tion is  here  made  between  God's  small,  or 
ordinary  rain,  and  the  "great  rain  of  his 
streng'th," — -such  as  was  necessary  to  sub- 
merge the  world. 

But  how  was  the  earth  again  relieved  of 
this  aggregation  of  waters?  We  read  in  the 
8th  chapter  of  Genesis  that  God  caused  a 


148  LECTURES. 

wind  to  pass  over  the  earth,  and  the  waters 
assNCt^ed.  Please  to  note  that  expression, 
"And  the  waters  assuag-ed."  The  fount- 
ains of  the  deep  and  the  windows  of  heaven 
were  also  stopped,  and  the  rain  from  heav- 
en was  restrained;  and  the  waters  returned 
from  off  the  earth  continually,  till  the  end 
of  one  hundred  and  fifty  days,  the  w^aters 
w^ere  abated. 

The  w^aters  "assuag-cd,"  and  the  w^aters 
were"abated;" — both  these  terms  implying" 
that  the  w^aters  were  lessened,  but  not  all 
removed  ;  and  leaving"  us  to  infer  that  while 
a  portion  may  have  floated  back  in  vapor  to 
whence  it  came,  yet  part  w  as  left  to  increase 
permanently  the  waters  of  the  earth. 

While  I  have  no  desire  to  urg-e  this  theory 
on  the  popular  mind,  yet  there  appears  to 
be  some  scriptural  foundation  for  believingf 
that  the  earth's  surface  was  formerly  rep- 
resented by  a  much  smaller  proportion  of 
w^ater  than  at  present,  from  the  fact  that  in 
the  Scriptures,  the  g-athering-s  of  water  on 
the  earth,  before  the  Flood,  are  only  spoken 
of  as  Seas;  but  afferzcard,  as  the  Great  and 


LECTURES.  149 

Wide  Sea,  The  Deep,  etc. — terms  implying* 
a  vast  whole  ;  and  not  like  the  term,  Seas , 
im^)lyino-  smaller  divisions  of  water. 

The  truth  however,  which  I  wish  to  im- 
press here  is, —  that  in  the  first  chapter  of 
Genesis,  the  earth  is  made  the  first,  the 
principal,  and  the  central  object  in  creation; 
while  sun  moon  and  stars  were  hung-  in  a 
firmament  surrounding-  it,  to  be  subservient 
to  it ;  and  that  the  history  of  the  Delug-e, 
when  carefully  considered,  directly  confirms 
that  revelation. 

That  this  plan  of  creation  was  also  the 
one  understood  and  accepted  by  patriarchs 
and  prophets,  who  appear  to  have  enjoyed 
m.ore  direct  intercourse  with  God  than  men 
in  modern  times,  is  clearly  shown  by  their 
frequent  expressions  in  the  Old  Testament. 
Of  the  fixedness,  or  non-wandering-  state  of 
the  earth,   David  says,  in  the  33d  psalm  : 

*'Let  all  the  earth  fear  the  Lord;  let  all 
the  inhabitants  of  the  world  stand  in  awe 
of  him  :  for  he  spake,  and  it  w^as  done,  he 
commanded,  and  it  stood  fast," 

And  again,  in  the  104th  psalm,  he  savs  : 


150  LECTURES. 

"Who  laid  the  foundations  of  the  earth, 
that  it  should  not  be  removed  forever?" 

Job  also,  it  seems,  held  the  same  views. 
In  chapter  26.  of  the  Book  of  Job,  he  says: 

"He  stretcheth  out  the  North  over  the 
empty  place,  and  hangeth  the  earth  upon 
nothinof." 

While  passag-es  of  a  like  import  abound 
throughout  the  Old  Testament,  yet  with  a 
careful  study  of  the  Scriptures,  I  fail  to  find 
a  single  sentence  even  remotely  implying' 
that  the  earth  travels  millions  and  millions 
of  miles  annually,  in  an  orbit  around  the 
sun.  But  to  the  movement  of  the  sun  itself, 
we  find  man}^  references;  and  I  crave  your 
indulgence  while  I  quote  a  few  extracts : 

"And  it  shall  come  to  pass  in  that  da}^ 
saith  the  Lord,  that  I  will  cause  the  sun  to 
g-o  down  at  noon,  and  I  will  darken  the 
earth  in  the  clear  day."     An2os,  6' :  g. 

"The  sun  also  riseth,  and  the  sun  g-oeth 
down;  and  hasteth  to  his  place  where  he 
arose."      Err  I.  i  :  ^. 

"Their  line  is  gone  out  through  all  the 
earth,  and   their  words  to  the  end  of  the 


LKCTURES.  151 

world.  In  them  hath  he  set  a  tabernacle 
for  the  sun,  which  is  as  a  brideg^room  com- 
ing- out  of  his  chamber,  and  rejoiceth  as  a 
strong-  man  to  run  a  race.  His  g'oing  forth 
is  from  the  end  of  the  heaven,  and  his  circuit 
unto  the  ends  of  it;  and  there  is  nothing-  hid 
from  the  heat  thereof."  Psalms^  7p.-^,5,d. 
This  is  indeed  strong-  lang-uaofe.  No  one 
could  desire  more  positive  declarations  as  to 
the  belief  of  those  inspired  men  in  the  sun's 
circuitous  movement.  But  leaving-  now  the 
expressions  quoted,  for  your  consideration, 
we  will  ag-ain  g-ive  our  attention  to  some  of 
the  memorable  events  recorded  in  Sacred 
History,  which  have  claimed  the  interest  of 
the  student  and  philosopher  in  all  ag-es. 

In  the  10th  chapter  of  the  Book  of  Joshua 
we  find  record  of  a  most  wonderful  instance 
of  God's  care  of  his  chosen  people,  Israel, 
which  is  also  in  direct  support  of  Moses' 
history  of  the  creation. 

THE   SUN   STANDS  STILL. 

Moses  was  dead.  After  leading-  forth  his 
people   from    bondag-e,  and    throug-h    many 


152  LECTURES. 

perils,  to  the  borders  of  the  Promised  Land, 
he  was  called  —  up  hig-Jier  ;  and  Joshua,  a 
man  of  force  and  valor,  yet  devout  and  God- 
fearing^, was  chosen  leader  of  Israel.  Kn joy- 
ing- divine  favor  and  help,  he  carried  ruin 
and  defeat  into  the  camp  of  his  enemies,  and 
hostile  cities  were  either  scattered  like  chaff 
before  him,  or  forced  to  capitulate. 

Of  the  latter,  was  the  proud  and  populous 
city  of  Gibeon.  The  king-  of  Jerusalem,  (it 
was  then  a  city  of  the  Amorites,)  fearing 
this  important  acquisition  to  Israel's  stand- 
ard, consummated  an  alliance  with  the  cities 
of  Jarmuth,  Lachish,  Eglon,  and  Hebron, 
for  Gibeon's  conquest. 

Marchino-  a-^-ainst  the  doomed  citv  with 
all  the  panoply  of  war,  calmly  confident  of 
superior  streng-th,  they  deliberately  pitched 
their  camp,  and  prepared  for  battle. 

The  men  of  Gibeon  promptly  dispatched 
swift  messeng'ers  to  Joshua,  encamped  at 
Gilg-a1,  saying'  :  ''Slack  not  thy  hand  from 
thv  servants  !  Come  up  unto  us  quickly  and 
save  us  and  help  us,  for  all  the  king's  of  the 
Amorites  that  dwell  in  the  mountains,  are 


LECTURES.  153 

g-atliercd  tcg-ether  ag-ainst  us  !"  {6th  verse. ^ 
It  was  the  hjur  of  slumber.  But  quick 
the  trumpet's  call  To  anus.'  aroused  the 
sleeping"  host;  the  line  of  march  was  taken 
up,  and  'neath  the  silent  stars,  Israel  went 
forth  ag-ain  —  to  victory!  For  did  not  the 
Ivord  say  to  Joshua  on  that  midnig'ht  march, 
*'Fear  them  not,  for  I  have  delivered  them 
into  thine  hand;  there  shall  not  a  man  of 
them  stand  before  thee." 

Gray  morning*  dawned  in  the  east.  As 
its  first  beams  kissed  the  battlements  of 
Gibeon,  the  reveille  was  heard  in  the  allies' 
camp,  and  the  silence  of  repose  soon  g-ave 
place  to  the  hum  and  bustle  of  activity  and 
preparation, — the  eventful  day  had  beg'un. 

The  marshalled  hosts  encompassed  that 
fair  city,  whose  spires  now  g-littered  in  the 
morning"  sun.  The  trumpet's  call  to  charg'e 
was  taken  up  along"  the  line,  and  like  an 
avalanche  they  hurled  themselves  ag"ainst 
its  walls.  Fiercly  the  battle  rag-ed — higher 
climbed  the  sun —  and  as  the  day  advanced, 
anxious  watchers  on  the  towers  strained 
their  g"aze  toward  Gilgal,   in  quest  of  the 


154  LECTURES. 

summoned  relief.  At  leiig-tli,  above  the  din 
of  battle,  rang;  the  g'lad  shout.  They  come  ! 
they  come  !  Israel's  host  advances  ! 

Ivike  a  thunderbolt  from  a  clear  sky,  that 
valiant  l)and  fell  on  the  heathen  host:  shout 
answered  shout,  steel  clanged  to  steel,  while 
fell  the  foe  on  every  hand.  Soon  the  tide  of 
battle  turned  —  the  besiegers  were  routed, 
and  Israel  was  in  victorious  pursuit  of  the 
vanquished  legions. 

And  now,  behold  the  power  of  God,  and 
his  care  of  his  people!  —  great  hailstones 
were  rained  down  on  the  flying  foe,  so  that 
they  who  fell  beneath  them,  were  more  than 
they  who  perished  by  the  sword.  In  the 
midst  of  the  fearful  carnag-e,  Joshua  stood 
forth  and  gave  his  memorable  command,  to 
the  end  that  the  day  mig-ht  be  prolong-ed,  so 
that  the  enemy's  destruction  could  be  made 
complete.    These  were  his  words  : 

*'In  the  sig-ht  of  Israel,  Sun,  stand  thou 
still  on  Gibeon  !  And  thou,  Mo^m,  in  the 
valley  of  Ajalon  !" 

Was  that  command  honored?  The  two 
verses  following-  it  in  the  chapter,  tell  us 


LECTURES.  155 

that  it  was; —  they  read  thus  :  "So  the  sviii 
stood  still,  and  the  moon  stayed,  till  the 
l^eople  had  avenged  themselves  on  their  ene- 
mies. Is  not  this  written  in  the  Book  of 
Jasher?  'So  the  sun  stood  still  in  the  midst 
of  heaven,  and  hasted  not  to  g-o  down  about 
a  whole  day.  And  there  was  no  day  like 
that,  before  it  or  after  it,  that  the  Lord 
hearkened  unto  the  voice  of  a  man  ;  for  the 
Ivord  foug'ht  for  Israel.'  " 

O,  sublime  and  awe-inspiring  spectacle  ! 
The  Sun !  which  through  thousands  and 
thousands  of  successive  journeyings,  had 
never  swerved  from  its  appointed  course  in 
the  heavens  —  had  never  before  forg-otten  its 
fixed  periods  of  rising  and  setting ;  whose 
progress  across  the  celestial  arch  had  ever 
been  marked  by  a  constancy  and  steadiness 
surpassing'  all  other  movement,  that  day  — 
stood  still  over  Gibeon ! 

The  humble  peasant  turned  again  and 
again  to  his  hour-g'lass,  shaded  his  eyes  and 
gazed  at  the  sun ;  the  man  of  wealth  anx- 
iously consulted  the  astrolog'er,  who  eagerl  v 
scanned  the  record,  in  a  vain  search  for  a 


156  LECTURES. 

precedent; — meanwhile  time  sped  on,   but 
not  the  sun. 

As  the  hours  went  by,  blanched  faces 
peered  from  lowly  cottag*es  and  princely  pal- 
aces. Had  God's  purpose  changed?  Should 
the  brio'ht  orb  of  day  henceforth  dart  down 
his  fierce  rays  on  the  parched  landscape, 
evermore,  without  intermission  or  change  ? 
Should  morning'  mists,  and  evening'  dews, 
and  nig"ht's  repose  never  more  refresh  the 
earth  ?    Let  us  turn  to  the  chapter  : 

We  read  that  after  Israel's  people  had 
aveng-ed  themselves  on  their  enemies,  and 
the  king-s  of  the  allied  cities  had  been  led 
from  their  hiding--place  and  executed,  then 
resuming*  its  majestic  course — slow  descend- 
ing- to  the  w^estern  g-ates,  mid  the  g-old  and 
crimson,  and  all  the  g-lorious  blending*s  of 
an  Oriental  setting-,  —  the  sun  went  down. 
Could  he  who  had  power  thus  to  command, 
have  known  naug-ht  of  that  system  which 
obeyed  his  behest  ? 

THE    SUN    TURNS   BACK. 

Passing  over  a  period  of  more  than  seven 


LECTURES.  157 

hundred  years  of  the  world's  history,  we 
come  to  another  event,  very  similar,  in  the 
conclusions  it  offers,  to  the  one  just  noticed; 
though  differing-  widely,  both  in  detail  and 
in  g-eneral  characteristics.  You  will  find  it 
recorded  in  the  20th  chapter  of  2d.  King's, 
also  in  the  38th  chapter  of  Isaiah.  The  two 
records  ag-reeing-  substantially,  while  each 
serves  to  elucidate  and  confirm  the  other. 

Jerusalem  had  already  been  for  several 
centuries  in  Israel's  possession,  and  had  be- 
come its  chief  city  and  seat  of  government. 
The  wicked  and  idolatrous  reig-n  of  Ahaz, 
king  of  Judah,  was  ended  by  his  death,  and 
Prince  Hezekiah,  an  upright,  pious  young 
man  of  twenty  ^ve,  ascended  his  deceased 
father's  throne. 

Though  all  the  other  tribes  of  Israel  were 
later  g-iven  over  to  their  common  enemy,  the 
Assyrians,  for  their  idolatrous  practices, 
and  thoug'h  Judah  was  also  resting  under 
God's  displeasure  for  the  same  offence,  yet 
thro'  the  wise  counsels  of  this  noble  young 
king,  the  remnant  of  Israel  was  spared. 

Devoutly  fearing,  and  intent  on  himself 


158  LECTURES. 

and  people  honoring*  and  serving  the  true 
God,  he  caused  all  the  accessories  to  false 
^vorship  to  be  destroyed;  even  to  the  brazen 
serpent  which  Moses  had  made  for  Israel 
centuries  before.  And  God's  wrath  was 
turned  aside,  and  Judah  once  more  restored 
to  favor. 

Prospering"  in  their  civil  and  domestic  af- 
fairs, they  were  also  successful  in  repelling* 
invasions  of  their  foes  by  force  of  arms,  but 
their  humane  and  pious  kin.of  preferred  the 
g"entle  arts  of  peace  ;  and  when,  in  the  four- 
teenth year  of  his  reig'n,  the  Assyrians  came 
up  and  seized  some  of  the  outlying-  cities  of 
Judah,  Hezekiah,  instead  of  resorting-  to  vi- 
olence, purchased  their  release  by  a  ransom 
of  fabulous  amount. 

But  Assyria's  kino-  was  not  content.  He 
knew  full  w^ell  that  yet  there  reig-ned  within 
Jerusalem's  walls  a  kin^  who  despised  and 
rejected  the  heathen  rites  and  practices  of 
Assyria,  and  who  taug'ht  his  people  to  honor 
and  serve  one  hig-h  and  ever-living*  God;  and 
in  defiance  of  that  gfod.  King-  Sennacherib 
sent  a  mig-hty  host  against  the  Holy  City, 


IvECTURES.  159 

under  the  leadership  of  able  advocates,  who 
soug-ht  first  by  specious  ar<>'ument ;  finally 
l)v  threat  and  bombast,  b)  draw  Hezekiali 
and  his  people  from  their  alleg'iance  to  the 
Most  Hig-h. 

In  this  dilemma,  Hezekiah  went  up  to  the 
Temple,  and  laid  his  case  before  the  Lord  ; 
praying-  for  deliverance  from  his  enemies. — 
And  now  behold  ag-ain  the  power  of  a  prayer 
hearing,  and  a  prayer  answering'  God : 

*'And  it  came  to  pass  that  nigdit,  that  the 
ang"el  of  the  Lord  w^ent  out  and  smote  in  the 
camp  of  t!ie  Assyrians,  one  hundred  four 
score  and  five  thousand  ;  and  when  arose 
the  morning-,  behold  they  wxre  all  dead." 

Thus,  substantially,  reads  the  35th  verse 
of  the  19th  chapter  of  2d,  King's. —  A  most 
wonderful  intercession  of  Divine  Providence! 
One  hundred  and  eig-hty  five  thousand  slain 
in  one  night,  in  direct  answer  to  Hezekiah's 
prayer  for  deliverance. 

This  sketch  may  seem  a  digression  ;  but 
I  have  presented  it  for  the  purpose  of  intro- 
ducing King  Hezekiah  in  his  true  character, 
and  to  show  w^hat  wonders  the  Lord  was 


160  LECTURES. 

ready  to  perform  in  answer  to  his  petitions; 
that  we  may  be  better  prepared  to  accept 
the  miracle  which  was  wrou^-ht  later,  by 
his  request,  and  which  we  will  now  proceed 
to  consider: 

Some  time  after,  was  the  King*  sick  with 
a  g'rievous  boil;  and  the  prophet  Isaiah,  son 
of  Amox,  came  and  said  to  him:  ''Hezekiah! 
thus  saith  the  Lord  !  'Set  thine  house  in 
order,  for  thou  shalt  die,  and  not  live.'  " 

What  a  messag^e  was  this  to  a  man  of 
only  thirty  nine  years; — just  entering"  his 
prime,  and  in  the  heig-ht  of  his  gflory  and 
usefulness.  The  King  of  Judali !  revered 
and  beloved  by  his  subjects,  and  invincible, 
throug-h  divine  favor,  in  the  presence  of  his 
foes.  His  future  a  dream  of  peace,  rose- 
tinted  with  brig'ht  anticipations.  Was  it 
strangfe  that  the  king*  wept  ? 

Oh  !  hoAv  the  stricken  heart  must  quiver 
and  recoil  at  such  a  summons  !  How  must 
the  poor  dazed  intellect  roam  the  confines 
of  human  possibilities,  seeking-  an  outlet ! 
and  oh!  the  agfony,  the  horror!  Avhen  at  last 
baffled  and  bewildered,  the  despairing"  cry 


tECTURES.  161 

is  wrung-  out,  lost!  lost!  Was  it  thus  with 
King-  Hezekiah  ?  O,  no !  Scarcely  had  the 
first  tremor  of  human  weakness  ceased  to 
rack  his  frame,  ere  he  soug-ht  his  accustom- 
ed refugee,  prayer  to  God.  With  streaming" 
eyes  and  averted  face,  he  prayed : 

**Remember  now  Oh  Lord,  I  beseech  thee, 
how  I  have  walked  before  thee  in  truth  and 
with  a  perfect  heart,  and  have  done  that 
which  was  g"ood  in  thy  sig-ht !"  and  ha  may 
have  added  :  And  now.  Oh  Lord,  with  my 
work  all  unfinished,  I  am  called  hence  !  Oh 
gfrant  me  yet  a  few  more  years,  that  I  may 
bring'  thee  "a  few  more  harvest  sheaves,  in 
recompense  of  all  thy  mercies ! 

Was  that  prayer  answered?  Why,  before 
the  prophet  had  reached  the  inner  court  of 
the  palace,  on  his  way  from  the  sick  cham- 
ber, the  Lord  commanded  him,  by  the  spirit; 
*'Go  tell  Hezekiah,  thus  saitli  the  Lord — the 
God  of  David,  thy  father  :  I  have  heard  thy 
prayer,  I  have  seen  thy  tears;  behold  I  will 
add  unto  thy  days  fifteen  years.  And  this 
shall  be  the  sign  unto  thee  that  the  Lord 
will  do  this  thing  that  he  hath  spoken  :— 


162  LECTURES. 

"Eeliold,  I  will  brino-  ao'aiu  the  shadow 
of  the  deg-rees  which  is  g'one  down  in  the 
sun-dial  of  Ahaz,  ten  de^-rees  backward  !" 

Was  this  to  be  simply  an  optical  illusion? 
A  turning  back  of  the  shadow^  only,  inde- 
pendent and  irrespective  of  the  true  position 
of  the  sun?  Kv^idently  not — we  paused  in 
our  Bible  quoting-,  at  the  middle  of  the  8th 
verse  of  the  38th  chapter  of  Isaiah;— the  re- 
mainder of  the  verse  reads  thus:  "So  the 
SUN,  returned  ten  deg-rees,  by  which  de- 
g-rees it  w^as  gfone  down." 

Believer  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures  !  liov<r 
do  you  reconcile  these  two  events  with  the 
teaching's  of  Copernicus  ?  I  confess  I  have 
tried,  honestly,  and  without  prejudice — and 
have  failed  ! 

God's  estimate  of  our  wored. 

Let  us  turn  aside  here  for  a  few  moments 
to  consider  what  estimate  our  Heavenly  Fa- 
ther places  on  this  world  of  ours,  and  why 
he  reg-ards  mankind  with  so  much  of  favor  : 

We  read  in  Genesis,  that  after  creating- 
the  heavens  and  the  earth,  God  created  the 


LECTURES.  1^)3 

living"  creatures  which  inhabit  earth,  air, 
and  sea.  And  while  among*  this  vast  multi- 
tude were  found  the  strength  and  massive- 
ness  of  the  leviathan,  the  noble  usefulness 
of  the  horse  and  ox,  the  swiftness  of  the 
eag-le,  the  cunning-  of  the  serpent,  yet  among- 
them  all,  there  was  found  no  responsible, 
reasoning  head.  All  were  guided  by  a  God- 
g-iven  instinct,  which  though  wonderful,  of 
itself,  is  as  far  removed  from  a  God-g-iven 
intelligence,  as  the  east  is  from  the  west. 

Then,  as  the  crowning  and  finishing*  work 
of  creation,  God  said,  '*Ivet  us  make  man. 
in  our  image,  after  our  likeness."  Thus  we 
read  that  he  created  man  in  his  owm  imag"e; 
*'In  the  imasre  of  God  created  he  him;  male 
and  female,  created  he  them.  And  God 
blessed  them,  and  God  said  unto  them  :  'Be 
fruitful  and  multiply,  and  replenish  the 
earth,  and  subdue  it ;  and  have  dominion 
over  the  iish  of  the  sea,  and  over  the  fowl 
of  the  air,  and  over  every  living-  thing-  that 
moveth  on  the  earth,' '' 

Oh!  the  fearful  weight  of  responsibility 
resting-  on    him,   who  in   the   liofht  of  this 


1()4  LECTURES. 

revelation,  presumes  to  reverse  the  real  or- 
der of  events,  by  teaching"  us  that  man  was 
developed  on  an  ascending-  scale,  or  evolved 
from  the  beast;  rather  than  admit  the  truth 
of  the  Bible —  that  he  orig-inally  came  forth 
from  the  hand  of  his  Creator,  reflecting  the 
beauty  and  g*race  and  symmetry  of  the  Di- 
vine Model:  and  that  by  his  own  wickedness 
and  folly  he  has  evolved  the  other  way,  till 
some  copies  have  descended  to  the  level  of 
the  beast. 

But  we  are  grateful  that  enough  of  the 
divine  likeness  still  exists  among  men,  to 
remind  us  of  the  g-reat  honor  God  conferred 
on  this  world  and  its  people,  in  bestowing" 
it.  And  as  we  meet  the  graceful  form,  the 
iinel}"  chiseled  features,  the  expressive  eye  ; 
or  better  still,  the  bright  intellect  and  the 
noble  heart,  we  cannot  but  feel  that  they  re- 
flect, in  some  degree,  their  Great  Original. 

Important  indeed,  must  this  world  be  in 
the  sight  of  Him  who  honored  it  thus  high- 
ly; and  who  has  made  it  the  object  of  his 
fatherly  care — favoring-  it  often,  in  its  early 
history,  with  his  divine  presence,  counseling- 


LECTURES.  165 

and  guiding  mankind; — as  we  read  in  the 
33d  chapter  of  Exodus,  "And  God  spake  to 
Moses  face  to  face,  as  a  man  speaketh  to 
his  friend." 

man's   estimate  of  our  world. 

As  affording  a  most  decided  contrast,  let 
us  now  briefly  examine  man's  estimate  of 
the  world  we  live  in. — In  the  first  place,  he 
calls  the  earth,  sun,  moon,  and  all  the  stars 
we  behold  in  the  heavens,  taken  collectively, 
*'Our  Universe;"  though  he  s^ys  —  perhaps 
correctly  —  that  there  are  other  universes 
besides  ours. 

This  cluster  called  Our  Universe,  besides 
the  earth  and  other  planets,  consists  of  mill- 
ions of  stars;  our  sun,  he  says,  being  one  of 
those  stars ;  and  thoug-h  appearing  much 
larger  than  the  others,  yet  this  is  only  on 
account  of  its  comparative  nearness  to  us  ; 
we  being  taught  that  of  the  few  stars  men 
have  taken  the  time  to  measure,  several  are 
many  times  greater  than  the  sun ;  yet  thev 
give  the  sun  a  diameter  of  866,000  miles,  or 
109  times  that  of  the  earth's;  which  would 


Kjf)  LECTTTRKvS. 

make  the  sun's  volume  more  than  a  million 
times  g-reater  than  the  earth's. 

As  illustrations  in  the  text-books  and  in 
the  lecture-room  usually  fail  to  ^'ive  any- 
thing- like  a  correct  idea  of  this  enormous 
difference  in  m^aofnitudes,  we  will  now  g-ivc 
a  scaled  perspective  of  those  bodies,  based 
on  present  estimates: — 

We  will  let  the  disc  S,  (see  plate  of  appa- 
ratus at  close  of  this  chapter),  represent  the 
sun.  It  is  exactly  nine  feet  one  inch,  or  109 
inches  in  diameter;  then  the  little  dark  dot 
^,  on  its  face,  which  is  1  inch  in  diameter, 
will  represent  the  earth. 

Here  we  have  man's  estimate  of  the  rel- 
ative mag-nitude  and  importance  of  this,  our 
o'lobe. — Such  a  sun  created  to  g"ive  lig-ht  on 
such  an  earth?  Why!  it  would — comparino- 
small  thing's  with  g'reat — be  like  setting"  all 
of  Greater  New  York  on  hre  to  lig-ht  the 
statue  of  ''Liberty"  in  the  harbor.  Oh!  may 
we  not  pause  and  reflect?  Let  us  seek  for 
more  lig-ht  {cnid  a  little  less  sun),  before  we 
longer  persist  in  our  wholesale  depreciation 
of  so  orrand  a  work  of  God. 


I^ECTURES.  1()7 

When  our  renowned  American  sculptor, 
Hiram  Powers,  had  g'iven  the  last  linishin<4' 
touch  to  his  o-reat  master-piece,  the  "Greek 
Slave, "and  w^ithdre\v  the  screen  to  admit 
his  admirino-  friends,  had  they  passed  indif- 
ferently by  his  crowning-  effort,  and  fallen 
to  admiring  some  insig'nificant  plaster  cast 
in  his  studio,  oh!  how  would  the  talented 
artist's  heart  have  sunk  in  his  bosom,  for 
lack  of  that  appreciation  which  he  strove 
so  hard  to  merit: — 

Our  Heavenly  Father  has  given  to  man 
this  o*reat  and  beautiful  world,  filled  with 
untold  wonders  and  blessing's,  for  his  habi- 
tation and  home.  Like  a  spoiled  child,  he 
turns  from  its  beauties  to  contemplate  its 
auxiliaries,  the  stars  ;  and  to  magnify  them 
in  his  imagination,  into  proportions  deeply 
disparag-ing  to  this  world  of  ours;  thereby 
confounding-  a  portion  of  God's  Word,  and 
leading  the  children  of  men  to  doubt.  Can 
God  be  pleased? 

But  says  the  freethinker,  "I  don't  know 
about  this  Moses'  history  of  the  Creation  ! 
Many  profound  men  of  the  present  dav  tell 


1(')8  LECTURES. 

US  that  some  portions  of  the  Old  Testament, 
particularly  its  first  books,  are  not  too  well 
authenticated  !"  We  will  produce  the  test- 
imony of  two  witnesses,  to  l)reak  up  this 
strong-hold  of  skepticism  and  then  we  will 
rest  this  side  of  our  cause  : 

THE    WITNESS   OF    THE    SPIRIT. 

First,  we  will  call  the  real  Christian;  the 
immortal  beino-  who  has  experienced  that 
mystic  transformation  which  was  explained 
to  Nicodemus  of  old  : 

Don't  you  remember  how,  before  that 
important  event  of  your  life,  you  reg-arded 
the  Bible  as  a  book  of  enigmas,  and  perhaps 
of  contradictions,  and  in  great  part  beyond 
the  scope  of  your  comprehension  ;  while  ad- 
verse criticisms  and  charges  of  faulty  trans- 
lations seemed  to  you,  just  and  tenable? 

Don't  vou  remember  how  demonstrations 
of  phvsical  science  appeared  to  your  mind, 
fairlv  and  substantially  to  disprove  many  of 
those  passages  which  men  must  receive,  if 
at  all,  on  their  simple  faith? 

But  there  came  a  time  in  vour  historv. 


LECTURES.  169 

wlilcli  comes  once  to  every  man  and  woman, 
when  you  were  impressed  with  a  deep  sense 
of  your  oblig'ation  to  that  Supreme  Author 
of  your  being-  whom  we  call  God ;  and  with 
a  desire  to  g-ain  his  pardon  and  favor. 

Unlike  many  of  your  fellow  being-s,  you 
entertained  that  ang-el  visitor,  and  after  due 
repentance,  earnest  seeking',  and  a  humble 
compliance  with  the  conditions  laid  down  in 
God's  Word,  the  burden  was  rolled  from 
off  your  soul,  and  the  g'lad  lig-ht  of  the  Gos- 
pel shone  in — '*As  the  wind  bloweth  where 
it  listeth,  and  thou  hearest  the  sound  there- 
of, but  canst  not  tell  whence  it  cometh,  and 
whither  it  <^oeth."  O,  blissful  transition! 
O,  foretaste  of  Heaven  ! 

Don't  you  remember,  when  a  child  at 
school,  you  pondered  vainly  some  difficult 
problem,  which  seemed  entirely  made  up  of 
puzzles  and  contradictions,  till  your  teacher 
came  along',  with  g'cntle  touch,  a  kind  word 
of  encouratfement,  chang^ingf  a  fig-ure  here 
and  there,  —  when  lo  !  the  solution  burst  on 
your  g'lad  vision,  just  as  the  wind  bloweth 
where  it  listeth?     *'0,  yes !"  you  then  said, 


170  LECTURES. 

' '  I  can  see  it  all  now  —  so  plain  and  beauti- 
ful, so  consistent  and  true!  Strange  I  could 
not  see  it  before  !'' 

In  like  manner,  when  God's  hand  was 
stretched  down  to  you,  and  the  beautiful 
Heaven  seemed  just  a  little  overhead,  did 
not  all  doubts  and  perplexities  vanish?  And 
as  his  fing'er  traced  the  sacred  lines  in  re- 
view for  you,  from  the  last  pag'e  of  Revela- 
tion, back  to  the  first  page  of  Genesis,  did 
not  a  sweet  harmony  run  through  it  all,  and 
a  deep  consciousness  take  possession  of  you 
that  the  Bible  throughout — from  beginning- 
to  end  —  w^as  g-lorious,  consistent,  all  true? 
A  consciousness  that  surpassed  belief,  and 
that  was  more  than  simple  faith; — it  was 

KNOVvXEDGE  1 

OUR   CHIEF    DEFENvSE. 

One  more,  (jur  principal  witness  and  chief 
defense,  and  then  we  shall  deem  cultured 
criticism,  from  a  biblical  standpoint,  fully 
answered.  Would  you  know  who  this  im- 
])ortant  witness,  and  whence  he  comes?  — 
Then  g-ive  me  your  attention  : 


LECTURES.  171 

Nineteen  hundred  years  ag"o  the  just  past 
Christmas-tide  (1897),  away  among*  the  hills 
of  Judea,  overlooking-  the  city  of  Bethlehem, 
shepherds  were  watching'  their  flocks  by 
night.  All  nature  was  hushed  in  repose;  no 
sound  came  up  on  the  bracing-  night  air  from 
the  city  below.  Suddenly  a  bright  lig'ht,  of 
most  dazzling  whiteness,  shone  round  about 
them,  and  they  were  sore  afraid.  Looking- 
upward  to  discover  its  source,  they  beheld 
an  ang-el,  ^^  ho  spake  unto  them  these  words: 

'*Fear  not,  for  behold  I  bring  you  g-ood 
tiding-s  of  g-reat  joy,  which  shall  be  to  all 
people;  for  unto  you  is  born  this  day  in  the 
city  of  David,  a  Savior,  which  is  Christ  the 
Ivord."  And  suddenly  there  was  with  the 
angel  a  multitude  of  the  Heavenly  host, 
praising  God,  and  saying:  ** Glory  to  God 
in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace  —  g-ood 
will  toward  men.'"' 

That  nig'ht,  lying  in  a  mang-er  within  a 
g-rotto  or  cavern  used  for  sheltering-  domes- 
tic animals,  because  there  was  not  room  for 
her  in  the  inn,  a  modest  and  beautiful  virgin 
maiden  was  delivered  of  a  male  child  : — 


172  LECTURES. 

The  shepherds  left  their  flocks  and  came 
down  to  Bethlehem,  to  verify  the  strange 
message.  Wise  men  of  the  East,  looking*  for 
Him  whose  coming  was  foretold  by  God's 
prophets  centuries  before,  and  discovering* 
the  star  which  should  herald  his  advent, 
came  on  to  Jerusalem  to  worship  him.  But 
there  learning-  that  Bethlehem  was  to  be  the 
city  of  his  birth,  they  turned  their  footsteps 
thitherward,  and  the  star  went  before  them 
till  It  came  and  stood  over  where  the  young 
child  was.  That  star,  at  least,  behaving- 
thus,  could  not  have  been  millions  and  mill- 
ions of  miles  from  earth,  could  it? 

That  child  grew  in  stature  and  wisdom, 
and  in  due  time  developed  into  the  most  re- 
markable man  w  hose  footsteps  ever  pressed 
this  world  of  ours.  History,  both  sacred 
and  profane,  bears  record  to  his  wondrous 
Avorks  and  matchless  grace.  Even  his  ene- 
mies could  not  deny  his  miraculous  powers, 
and  wc  Christians,  who  have  AV^  his  power 
to  save, — we  knovj  that  he  was  the  Messiah 
which  was  to  come  —  the  Christ,  the  only 
begotten  Son  of  God.     Let  us  judge  from 


LECTURES.  173 

his  own  words  of  his  competence  as  a  wit- 
ness in  this  case  : — 

In  that  beautifully  pathetic  prayer  to  the 
Father,  recorded  in  the  17th  chapter  of  St. 
John,  ill  the  5th  verse  he  says :  "And  now, 
O  Father!  g-lorify  thou  me  with  thine  own 
self; — with  the  g'lory  which  I  had  with  thee 
before  the  world  was!"  In  the  24th  verse 
of  the  same  chapter  he  says:  '*For  thou  lov- 
edst  me  before  the  foundation  of  the  world." 
In  the  8th  chapter  of  St.  John,  58th  verse, 
he  also  sa3's,  in  reply  to  a  question  of  the 
Jews  :  * 'Verily  verily  I  say  unto  you;  before 
Abraham  was,  I  am!"  Thus  dating^  back 
his  personality  over  a  period,  not  only  cover- 
ing" all,  but  even  preceding*  the  events  found 
recorded  in  Sacred  History, 

Of  his  remarkable  familiarity  with  the 
Scriptures,  we  will  judg-e,  first  from  the 
admission  of  his  enemies ;  who,  while  he 
was  teaching-,  or  expounding-  the  Scriptures 
in  the  Temple, — **Marvelled!  saying",  how 
knoweth  this  man  letters, — having-  never 
learned!"  Sf. Jo/d?^  j  :  /s".  and  next  from 
the  words  of  his  friends,  the  two  disciples 


174  LECTURES. 

whom  he  accompanied  when  on  their  way  to 
Kmmaus  ;  and  thoug-h  at  first  unrecog-nized 
by  them,  yet  conversed  in  such  a  spirit  that 
they  were  moved  later  to  exclaim  :  *'Did  not 
our  hearts  burn  within  us,  while  he  talked 
with  us  by  the  way,  and  while  he  opened  to 
tis  the  Scriptures!"   S/.  Luke,  2^  : 32. 

And  now,  what  says  this  most  competent 
witness  of  these  same  Scriptures,  the  Old 
Testament?  In  St.  Matthew,  5  :  17,  he  sa^'s 
"Think  not  I  am  come  to  destroy  the  law 
or  the  prophets;  I  am  not  come  to  destroy, 
but  to  fulfill."  In  St.  John,  5  :  39,  he  says 
ao-ain,  "Search  the  Scriptures;  for  in  them 
ye  think  ye  have  eternal  life:  and  they  are 
they  which  testify  of  me."  And  ag'ain  in 
St.  John,  17  :I7, — "Sanctify  them  throug-h 
thy  truth;  thy  Word  is  truth." 

In  confirmation  of  these  declarations,  we 
would  call  your  attention  to  the  constancy 
with  which  he  refers  to,  and  quotes  from 
the  Old  Testament  from  beg-inning*  to  close; 
always  ag*reeing%  substantially,  controvert- 
ing- or  rejecting- — Never!  You  will,  I  trust 
bear  with  me  while  I  g-ive  a  few  examples: 


LECTURES.  175 

Adverting"  to  the  very  beg-iniiing-  of  cre- 
ation, he  says,  in  reply  to  a  question  of  the 
Pharisees,  concerning*  divorcement :  "Have 
ye  not  read,  that  He  who  made  them  at  the 
beginniug-^  made  them  male  and  female,  and 
said,  etc.    ^S7.  Matthczi\  ig  :  ^,5. 

He  refers  io  that  first  deed  of  violence, 
recorded  away  back  in  the  4th  chapter  of 
Genesis,  w^hile  foretelling*  the  fate  of  the 
scribes  and  Pharisees;  these  are  his  words, 
found  in  Matthew,  23  :  35,  ^'That  upon  you 
may  come  all  the  rig'hteous  blood  shed  upon 
the  earth;  from  the  blood  of  righteous  AbeL 
unto  the  blood  of  Zacharias,  son  of  Barachi- 
as,  whom  ye  slew  between  the  temple  and 
the  altar/' 

Aofain  in  Matthew,  24  :  38,  he  refers  to 
the  Flood  in  these  words:  *'For  as  in  the 
days  that  were  before  the  Flood,  they  were 
eatingf  and  drinking-,  marr^^iug-  and  g-iving-  in 
marriag-e,  until  the  day  that  Noe  entered 
into  the  ark,'^ 

Of  Moses  and  his  writing's  in  general,  he 
says  in  John,  5  :  46,  47.  *'For  had  ye  be- 
lieved Moses,  ye  would  have  believed  me,  for 


176  LECTURES. 

he  wrote  of  me;    but  if  ye  believe  not  his 
writinofs,  how  shall  ye  believe  my  words." 

Nor  dues  he  reject  that  strangle  narration 
in  Genesis  concerning'  Lot's  wife,  which  the 
men  of  modern  times  have  found  so  hard  to 
believe;  but  appears  to  give  it  full  credence 
by  commending"  the  lesson  it  affords  to  those 
who  shall  witness  his  second  appearing".  He 
refers  to  it  in  these  words*.  '*In  that  day  he 
which  shall  be  upon  the  housetop,  and  his 
stuff  in  the  house,  let  him  not  come  down  to 
take  it  away;  and  he  that  is  in  the  field,  let 
him  likewise  not  return  back.  Remember 
LoV s    vji/e  !'*      St.  Li{key  ij  :  ji,  j2. 

And  so  far  from  discarding  the  story  of 
Jonah,  which  modern  savants  contend  must 
necessarily  be  a  myth,  he  employs  it  to  sym- 
bolize the  most  memorable  event  of  all  his- 
tory—  his  burial  and  g"lorious  resurrection. 
These  are  his  words,  found  in  Matt.  12  :40. 
"For  as  Jonas  was  three  days  and  three 
nig-hts  in  the  whale's  belly,  so  shall  the  Son 
of  man  be  three  da^s  and  three  nights  in 
the  heart  of  the  earth!"  and  by  these  words 
and  their  context  implying",   that  as  Jonas 


LECTURES.  177 

was  delivered  living*  from  the  whale,  even  so 
should  the  Son  of  Ood  arise  living'  from  the 
tonih.  And  thus  I  nii.ifht  o-o  on  and  on,  to 
prove  his  entire  familiarity  and  perfect  ac- 
cord with  the  Old  Testament,  from  beg-in- 
ning-  to  end,  but  time  hastens  and  I  forbear. 

Touching'  the  importance  g'iven  the  earth 
in  God's  universe,  he  says:  "For  God  so 
loved  the  world  that  he  g'ave  his  only  beg'ot- 
ten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him 
should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting* 
life."  St,  John^  J  :  i6.  And  as  indicating* 
his  own  knowledg'e  that  sun  moon  and  stars 
are  attendants  of  the  earth,  he  speaks  of 
them  in  connection  with  his  second  coming*, 
in  this  wise:  ^^Immediately  after  the  trib- 
ulation of  those  days  shall  the  sun  be  dark- 
ened, and  the  moon  shall  not  o-ive  her  li^'ht, 
and  the  stars  shall  fall  from  heaven,  and 
the  powers  of  the  heavens  shall  be  shaken." 

St,  Mattkeii\  24  :  2g. 

And  now,  in  conclusion,  wherefore  was 
Christ's  mission?  Was  it  to  redeem  only  a 
diminutive  and  insig-nificant  planet,  attend- 
ant on  a  sun  more  than  a  million  times  its 


178  LECTURES. 

superior  in  size,  and  3^et  that  sun  but  a  star 
of  lesser  magnitude?  Or  was  it  to  redeem 
a  grand  and  spacious  world,  teeming  with 
the  wonders  and  beauties  and  blessing's  of 
God's  creation,  and  peopled  with  beings 
created  in  his  own  image,  and  but  a  little 
lower  than  the  angels? 

God's  ways  are  perfect.  The  means  he 
emplo3^s  are  always  commensurate  with  the 
importance  of  the  object.  He  sent  on  that 
mission  of  redemption  —  not  one  of  earth's 
saints  ;  not  one  of  the  Heavenly  cherubim  ; 
not  one  of  the  seraphim.  He  sent  his  only 
begotten  Son. 

And  what  the  duties  of  that  mission  ?  To 
recline  on  flowery  beds  of  ease,  while  spicy 
zephyrs  fanned  his  brow,  and  soft  seoliam 
strains,  in  dulcet  numbers  gently  breathed 
a  world's  submissive  adulation?  Or  was  it 
to  mount  the  conqueror's  chariot  and  roll 
triumphant  through  E)arth''s  empires,  awe- 
ing  and  subduing  ]>v  the  majesty^  of  his. 
Immaculate  Presence? 

No  !  no  !  none  of  these  !  His  lot  was  cast 
among  the  poor  and  lowly;    he  came  to  his 


LECTURES.  IT'^ 

own,  and  his  own  received  him  not.  Cruel 
hatred  and  stubborn  unbelief  opposed  him 
ever}^ where  ;  and  after  o-iving-  to  mankind 
the  hig-hest  proofs  of  his  divinit}^  inculca- 
tinof  the  noblest  lessons  of  true  charity  and 
Godlike  virtue,  and  establishing-  a  Christian 
m^inistry,  later  commissioned  to  evang'elize 
and  bless  and  save  —  the  World  !  —  He  was 
seized  by  his  enemies,  and  crucified ! 

The  sun  was  darkened  !  The  earth  quak- 
ed !  The  vail  of  the  Temple  was  rent  in 
twain  —  He  yielded  up  the  gfhost :  the  sacri- 
fice was  complete. 

And  that  g-reat  sacrifice  —  was  it  for  a 
comparative  speck  in  God's  universe,  such 
as  man  assumes  this  world  to  be  ? 


180  LECTURES. 


PHYSICAL  APPARATUS. 

The  apparatus  illustrated  on  the  opposite 
pag*e,  besides  various  other  appliances,  not 
shown,  were  desig-ned,  constructed,  and  em- 
ployed by  the  author,  to  demonstrate,  step 
by  step,  the  deductions  submitted  in  the 
two  following"  lectures:  and  their  success- 
ful operation  is  explained  by  the  assistance 
of  diagrams  introduced  at  the  proper  places 
throug-hout  the  lectures. 

The  large  disc,  S,  with  the  small  dot,^, 
on  its  face,  is  the  one  already  referred  to  on 
]>age  166,  to  show  comparative  size  of  sun 
and  earth. — A,  is  a  large  mounted  scroll  of 
diagrams,  moving*  mechanically,  as  desired, 
from  the  upper,  to  the  lower  roller. 

B,  illustrates  mechanically  the  Sun  Spot 
Paradox  explained  in  Lecture  il.  —  C\  is  the 
liquation  of  Time  device, — />,  the  Aberra- 
tion of  Light, — and  /",  the  apparatus  for 
testing-  Kepler's  Second  Law  of  Motion,  in 
Lecture  iii. 


PHYSICAL    APPARATUS. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

I.ECTURK  II. —  NATURE  vs,  COPERNICUS. 

We  may  perhaps  at  some  time  have  seen 
a  beautiful  edifice,  \\hose  superstructure 
was  correct,  both  in  outline  and  detail  ;— 
mag^nificent  in  proportions,  artistic  in  de- 
sign, g-org'eous  in  decoration,  admired  by 
all  beholders;  the  pride  of  its  architect  and 
builders  ;  —  yet  resting-  on  an  unsound  base: 
rendering*  it  desirable,  for  the  public  g*ood, 
that  its  instability  be  known  of  men. 

May  the  honored  dead,  and  their  living" 
representatives,  forgive  my  presumption  in 
concluding'  that  such  is  the  noble  monument 
of  thought  and  observation  and  calculation, 
which  we  are  about  to  examine;  and  wdiich 
has  been  built,  block  added  to  block,  by  men 
whose  genius  and  culture  would  sink  in  ig- 
nominy and  despair  my  poor  dwarfed,  mea- 
g-er  attainments.    But  remembering  it  is  for 


182  LECTURES. 

the  Master,  I  must  prevSs  forward  ;  waithio- 
for  justification,  if  must  needs  be,  till  that 
time  when  we  shall  know,  even  as  we  are 
known;  and  when  our  spiritual  eyes  may  be 
able  to  discern  the  pare  motive  often  lying- 
beneath  the  haltino-,  unsuccessful,  or  per- 
chance mistaken  deed. 

Maintaiuino-  that  the  foundation  of  such 
a  structure  should  be  God  and  his  revealed 
Word,  with  the  operations  of  Nature,  cor- 
rectly observed,  as  material  for  the  buildino- 
of  the  superstruction,  we  will  now"  proceed 
to  investio-ate  as  to  the  solidity  of  the  corner 
blocks  on  w^liich  men  have  builded  this  tow- 
er to  the  skies. 

THE    ReFRACTION    OF    LIGHT. 

If  we  hold  a  straig-ht  rod  in  the  water 
obliquely,  we  observe  that  the  part  below 
the  surface  appears  to  be  bent  upward;  but 
knowinsT,  from  the  firmness  of  the  rod,  that 
this  is  not  really  so,  w^e  are  led  to  discover 
that  the  rays  of  lig*ht  passinQf  throug-h  the 
two  media  of  air  and  water,  are  bent  down- 
ward at  the  water  line.    This,  we  all  under- 


LECTURES.  1S3 

Stand  is  called  the  Refraction  of  Lig'ht;  and 
takes  place  whenever  lig-ht  passes  from  a 
rarer  to  a  denser  medium,  and  vice  versa  ; 
the  deg-ree  of  refraction  depending"  on  the 
obliqueness  of  the  rays,  and  the  difference 
in  density  of  the  media. 

In  considering-  the  lig'ht-refracting*  prop- 
erties of  our  atmosphere,  we  might  treat  it 
as  consisting-  of  an  infinite  number  of  strata, 
each  lower  stratum  a  trifle  denser  than  the 
one  above  it;  which  would  have  the  effect 
(as  it  really  does  have)  of  bending*  rays  of 
lig'ht  passing-  obliquely  throug-h  it,  into  that 
infinite  number  of  ang'les  which  constitute 
a  curve;  the  curvature  or  refraction  being* 
g-reatest  at  the  horizon,  and  decreasing-  rap- 
idly toward  the  zenith,  where  it  disappears 
altog-ether.  So  g*reat  an  obstacle  has  this 
proven  to  correct  observation  of  the  heavens 
that  Sir.  Geo.  Airy,  England's  Astronomer 
Royal,  termed  it  The  bane  of  astronomers  ; 
and  in  my  simplicity  I  shall  g-o  still  farther, 
by  calling-  it  the  vail  which  God  has  drawn 
betw^een  the  known,  and  the  unknown  and 
unknowable. 


181-  LECTURES. 

To  obviate  this  bar  to  direct  vision,  emi- 
nent observers  and  mathematicians  have 
formulated  tables  of  these  refractions,  as 
they  present  themselves  to  us  at  the  earth's 
surface,  which  are  doubtless  true  records 
of  the  observations  made,  thoug'h  they  are 
subject  to  variation  in  different  localities, 
and  different  states  of  the  atmosphere.  But 
they  do  not  appear  to  estimate  the  contin- 
gfency  that  atmospheric  refraction  may  not 
be  g'reatest  at  the  immediate  surface,  over 
a  larg-e  portion  of  the  earth;  since  in  all  but 
the  colder  reg'ions,  the  lower  portion  of  the 
air  becomes  warmed  and  attenuated  by  the 
radiated  and  reflected  heat  it  receives  from 
the  earth,  to  the  extent  of  perhaps  reducing- 
the  deflections  of  lig-ht  coming-  to  it  from 
the  cooler  air  above  by  a  counter  refraction, 
as  shown  by  the  line  r,  in  Fig',  i .  (opposite 
pag-e),  in  which  fig-ure  E  represents  a  hemi- 
sphere of  the  earth,  a  a,  the  surrounding- 
atmosphere,  the  closer  lines  representing- 
the  denser  portions.  K  and  S  indicate  the 
polar  reg-ions,  locating-  the  equatorial  belt 
verticallv  at   the  centre  ;    ^^  hilc    lu    and    ;/ 


LECTURES. 


185 


represent    stars,    each  sending-  a  beam   of 
li.>-ht  (r  and  d)   to  the  earth. 


COUNTER    REFRACTION. 

In  support  of  this  theory,  we  find  that 
the  air  is  always  more  bracing-  in  elevated 
re  onions  than  in  the  valleys.  Aeronauts  and 
mountain  scalers  also  tell  us  that  at  no 
S"reat  hticrht  above  the  common  level  of  the 


186  LECTURES. 

earth,  even  in  the  tropics,  the  air  is  cold  ; 
and  we  know  that  some  of  the  hig-her  mount- 
ains there,  are  capped  with  ice  and  snow, 
while  the  heat  in  the  valleys,  and  on  the 
plains,  is  ^^  itherino-  in  its  intensity. 

The  effect  of  such  a  condition  must  be  to 
so  rarefy  the  low  er  portion  of  the  air,  as  to 
produce  this  counter  refraction.  And  as  we 
behold  objects  in  the  direction  in  which  the 
rays  of  lig-ht  emanating*  from  them,  present 
themselves  to  our  eyes,  we  naturally  lose 
the  effect  of  that  g'reater  refraction  in  the 
more  elevated  reg^ions  of  the  air,  which  aer- 
onauts inform  us  is  so  gfreat  that  the  earth 
beneath  them,  instead  of  appearing*  like  a 
g^lobe,  as  it  really  is,  actually  looks  like  a 
hug*e  bowl ;  the  horizon  appearing*  lifted  up 
on  all  sides  of  them. 

But  as  refraction  is  observed  to  be  so 
o-reat  in  the  polar  reg*ions,  we  must  conclude 
that  this  g-reater  refraction  comes  to  earth 
there,  and  that  it  may  also  be  intensified  by 
the  denser,  frost-laden  air  which  it  encoun- 
ters at  the  earth's  surface,  as  indicated  by 
the  line,  d,  in  I^i^.  /, —  preceding-  i^ag'c. 


LECTURES.  187 

In  refutation  of  such  a  theory,  it  may  be 
arg-ued  that  there  is  the  same  gradual  fall 
of  barometer  when  ascending*  elevations  in 
the  tropics  that  there  is  in  hig-her  latitudes, 
indicating*  the  same  steady  chang-e  in  densi- 
ty;  and  rig'ht  here  permit  me  to  draw  the 
line  between  barometric  pressure  and  true 
atmospheric  density: — 

If  we  fill  a  rubber  bag*  slackly  with  air 
in  a  cold  room,  and  closing'  it  tightly,  bring* 
it  into  a  heated  apartment,  in  a  short  time 
the  confined  air,  becoming*  heated,  will  dis- 
tend the  bag*  to  double  or  more  its  former 
volume,  and  will  hold  it  distended  after  it  is 
removed  to  the  cold  room  ag^ain,  till  it  loses 
its  increased  temperature ;  thereb}^  clearly 
demonstrating-  that,  with  the  atmospheric 
densi t3^  reduced  one  half,  or  more,  by  the 
aid  of  heat,  the  barometric  pressure  remains 
the  same. 

If  then,  refraction  is  such  an  inconstant 
and  uncertain  quantity,  can  we  anywhere 
obtain  a  reliable  g*eometrical  parallax  of  a 
heavenly  body?  I  doubt  not  how^ever,  that 
there  is  a  region  of  the  air,  though  it  is  not 


188  LECTURKS. 

accessible  for  making  observations,  where 
refraction  is  far  more  constant  than  at  the 
earth's  surface,  and  may  also  be  far  greater 
than  we  have  estimated  ;  and  that  is  the  re- 
gion just  above  the  clouds  ;  where,  relieved 
of  the  earth's  radiated  and  reflected  heat, 
atmospheric  temperature  and  density  must 
be  nearly  uniform,  at  equal  altitudes,  all 
around  the  earth. 

It  may  however  be  suggested  that  in  the 
region  referred  to,  the  atmospheric  density 
may  be  less  than  one  half  w  hat  it  is  at  the 
earth's  surface;  and  I  would  reply  that  this 
does  not  affect  my  theory;  for  so  long  as  the 
air  nearest  to  the  earth  becomes  sufficiently 
rarefied  by  heat  to  cause  a  counter  refrac- 
tion in  receiving  the  rays  of  lig-ht  from  the 
cooler  air  directly  above  it,  we  are  unable  to 
correctly  estimate  the  refraction  of  that  up- 
per region  ;  which,  as  I  have  said,  may  far 
exceed  present  estimates;  since  refraction  is 
caused,  not  so  much  by  the  g-reater  abstract 
density  of  media,  but  chiefly  by  the  differ- 
ence in  density. 

Let  us  take,  for  example,  the  two  media 


LECTURES.  189 

of  air  and  water,  which  differ  in  density  as 
about  1,000  to  1  only,  yet  they  give  results 
far  exceeding  the  refractions  observed  in  our 
lower  atmosphere.  So  mig'lit  not  those  re- 
fractions just  above  the  clouds  g-ive  similar 
results?  For  assuming  that  the  atmospheric 
density  there  is  but  one  fifth  \\  hat  it  is  at 
the  earth's  surface,  Dr.  Crookes  tells  us  of 
exhausting-  air  in  a  receiver  to  a  millionth 
part  of  its  common  densit}^;  and  is  it  likely 
that  man,  by  mechanical  means,  could  pro- 
duce greater  attenuation  than  always  exists 
in  the  outer  stratum  of  our  atmosphere?  Yet 
the  figures  quoted  would  give  a  difference 
in  density  between  the  air  of  that  upper  re- 
gion and  the  outer  stratum,  not  only  of  1,000 
to  1,  as  with  air  and  water,  but  of  200,000 
to  1,  or  200  times  greater, 

I  have  observed  however,  that  astrono- 
mers, in  treating  on  the  subject  of  the  Lunar 
Eclipse,  appear  to  consider  our  whole  atmos- 
phere as  being  the  region  of  cloudland,  but 
the  best  authorities  I  have  been  priveleged 
to  consult  on  that  point,  place  the  highest 
cloud  formations  almost  entirely  within  six 


190 


LECTURES. 


miles  of  the  earth,  while  beyond,  the  air  is 
clear  and  cold,  and  offers  little  resistance  to 
rays  of  light,  except  that  of  refraction. 


THE   EUNAR    ECEIPSE. 

They  also  tell  us  that  the  umbra,  or  dark 
shadow  of  the  earth  on  the  moon,  indicated 
by  A,  in  J^i^.  2, —  S  representing-  the  sun, 
£  the  earth,  a  a  its  enveloping'  atmosphere. 


LECTURES.  191 

and  M  the  moon,  partially  eclipsed  ; — they 
tell  us  that  this  umbra,  A^  is  outlined  or 
circumscribed  by  those  direct  rays  of  the 
sun  which  pass  the  earth  above,  or  outside 
of  its  atmosphere,  or  at  least  so  far  above 
the  earth's  surface,  that  they  suffer  no  sen- 
sible refraction  ;  while  those  ra3's  passing- 
throug'h  our  atmosphere  are  refracted,  or 
bent  inward  by  it,  and  cast  on  the  umbra  ; 
g-iving'  to  the  eclipsed  moon  a  faint  illumina- 
tion, except  when  the  atmosphere  is  cloudy, 
when  these  rays  are  intercepted,  and  the 
moon  is  left  in  total  darkness;  and  that  the 
umbra  is  therefore  much  larg-er  than  the 
moon's  disc  —  sometimes  as  many  as  5,950 
miles  in  diameter,  and  never  less  than  about 
5,650  miles. 

This  is  the  langfuag'e,  in  substance,  of  an 
eminent  author  of  astronomical  works,  and 
I  presume  it  fairly  expresses  the  Copernican 
view  of  the  subject;  while  the  breadth  of 
umbra  gnven  is  doubtless,  relatively  to  the 
moon's  estimated  diameter,  correct. 

The  heig^ht  of  our  atmosphere  appears  to 
be  variouslv  estimated  from  40  to  80  miles  : 


192  LECTURES. 

thoug*h  an  eminent  English  astronomer  says 
in  one  of  his  text-books,  "There  is  evidence 
to  show  that  we  have  an  atmosphere  of  some 
kind  at  a  height  of  from  400  to  500  miles 
above  the  earth."  Also  an  eminent  Ameri- 
can astronomer  has  said,  "It  is  evident  that 
our  atmosphere  extends  upward  more  than 
100  miles,  while  we  have  no  certain  knowl- 
edge that  it  does  not  extend  out  into  space 
indefinitely." 

Now,  we  find  by  computation,  that  this 
breadth  of  the  earth's  shadow  in  a  Lunar 
eclipse,  to  w^liich  we  have  referred,  is  calcu- 
lated from  the  direct  rays  of  the  sun,  (as  is 
shown  in  /^i^.  2,)  passing  the  earth  just  50 
miles  above,  or  outside  of  its  solid  surface  ; 
and  whether  they  pass  throug'h  the  upper 
and  thinner  portions  of  our  atmosphere,  or 
just  skirt  its  outer  edges,  the  effect  would 
be  the  same  on  all  other  rays  from  the  sun 
passing  below  these,  or  nearer  to  the  earth. 
Let  us  as  briefly  as  possible  consider  ^^  hat 
that  effect  would  be  : 

Our  atmosphere  being  free  from  clouds, 
and  offering  little  resistance  to  rays  of  light 


LECTURES.  193 

beyond  a  heig^ht  of  six  miles  above  the  earth, 
and  diminishing"  in  density  as  it  extends  up- 
ward with  a  constancy  due  to  natural  laws, 
it  is  evident  that  the  next  course  of  rays 
coming-  from  the  sun,  inside  the  direct  ones, 
^vould  be  refracted  slig-htly  inward  in  pass- 
ing- throug-h  the  attenuated  outer  portions 
of  our  atmosphere;  the  next  course  a  little 
m.ore,  and  our  atmosphere  increasing-  still 
in  density  toward  the  earth,  the  next  course 
still  more,  and  so  on  ;  the  result  being-  that 
a  larg-e  percentag-e  of  those  ra3's  would,  at 
time  of  central  eclipse,  be  focused  on  the 
face  of  the  moon. 

But  whence  then,  comes  the  dark  shadow^ 
we  are  accustomed  to  see  pass  over  the  moon 
in  a  Lunar  eclipse  ?  Where  among-  those  re- 
fracted rays  would  its  line  of  demarkation 
fall?  Is  it  not  plain  that  there  would  be  no 
definite  shadow — onl}^  a  lig'ht,  penumbral 
shade,  of  perhaps  unequal  density  ? 

And  how  would  ever  be  cast  the  totally 
black  shadow,  w^hich  has  on  rare  occasions 
obscured  the  moon  by  total  darkness?  since 
the  clouds,  extending-  upward  in  any  event, 


194  LECTURES. 

less  than  one  sixth  the  hig-hth  of  our  atmos- 
phere, at  least  five  sixths  of  it  must  always 
remain  clear  for  the  rays  of  the  sun  to  pass 
throug-h  it,  and  thus  be  focused,  in  part  at 
least,  on  the  moon  ? 

But  since  the  moon  is  at  times  eclipsed 
by  this  fairly  ^^  ell  defined,  and  more  rarely 
by  this  totally  black  shadow,  I  am  convinc- 
ed that  both  are  outlined,  not  by  the  direct, 
but  by  the  refracted  rays  of  the  sun  passing- 
throiig-h  our  atmosphere. 

This  ^\ould  indicate  g-reatly  reduced  di- 
mensions and  distances  from  earth  of  those 
two  important  bodies,  the  sun  and  moon,  and 
mio-ht  be  illustrated  as  in  Fig-.  3,  pag-e  190, 
in  which  ^S"  represents  the  sun  sending-  its 
rays  to  the  moon  M,  throug-h  the  atmosphere 
a  a,  of  the  earth  E,  which  they  traverse  as 
obliquely  as  possible,  and  therefore  receive 
the  maximum  of  refraction,  both  in  their 
entrance  and  exit. 

As  clouds  are  always  floating-  someA\  here 
in  our  lower  atmosphere,  and  have  a  decided 
tendency  to  g-ather  at  the  horizon  which  the 
earth  presents  to  the  su.n,  as  we  see  at  its 


IvECTURKS.  1^)5 

rising"  and  setting-;  and  as  rays  of  sunlig*ht 
just  g-razing-  this  horizon  must  travel  many 
miles  of  cloudland  of  the  hight  ascertained, 
I  feel  assured  that  comparatively  few  of  the 
sun's  rays  ever  make  their  way  across  this 
cloud-belt,  and  that  the  umbra  of  a  Lunar 
eclipse  is  outlined  wholly  by  those  rays  of 
sunlig-ht  passing-  through  that  region  of  the 
air  before  referred  to,  just  above  the  clouds; 
where  the  uniform  atmospheric  temperature 
and  density  tend  to  give  them  that  uniform 
refraction  on  all  sides  of  the  earth,  w^hicli  is 
necessary  to  faithfulh^  describe  its  circular 
shadow  on  the  moon  ;  while  those  rays  only 
which  make  their  way  through  the  cloud- 
belt,  at  remote  parts  of  the  earth,  where 
the  low^  temperature  favors  atmospheric 
density  at  the  surface,  are  refracted  enoug-h 
more  than  those  passing  above  the  clouds, 
to  cast  their  diminished  light  on  the  umbra. 

[  Note.  ] —  The  Lunar  Eclipse  of  the  evening 
of  Dec.  16,  1899,  was  observed  by  me,  and 
view^ed  through  a  small  telescope,  presented 
a  beautiful  appearance.    The  skv  w^as  with- 


1%  LECTURES. 

out  a  cloud,  the  eclipse  was  nearly  total,  the 
shadow  at  greatest  obscuration  being*  of  a 
copper  ting-e,  deepening  toward  the  centre. 
When  the  shadow  was  leaving*  the  moon, 
and  about  one  third  of  its  disc  was  uncover- 
ed, the  view  was  especially  distinct  and  sat- 
isfactory; the  shadow  appearing-,  relatively 
to  the  uncovered  portion  of  the  moon,  of  a 
dark  copper  color,  w  ith  its  edg-e  though  a 
little  jagged,  yet  very  clearly  defined  ;  the 
appearance  forcibly  suggesting  the  passag'C 
of  the  sun's  rays  over  banks  of  clouds,  and 
thus  most  decidedly  supporting-  my  former 
views  on  that  subject. 

CELESTIAL   DISTANCES. 

In  determining  celestial  distances,  the 
distance  of  sun  from  earth  has  received  the 
most  attention,  as  it  supplies  the  basis,  or 
astronomical  unit,  for  calculating*  nearly  all 
other  celestial  measurements. 

Of  the  many  ingenious  methods  emplo3xd 
from  time  to  time  for  finding  the  solar  par- 
allax, those  which  gave  results  incompatible 
with   the  theory  of  Copernicus,    have  been 


LECTURES.  197 

entirely  discarded  ;  while  such  as  g-ave  re- 
sults fairly  accordant  w  ith  that  theory,  and 
also  with  each  other,  have  been  accredited 
^vith  various  degrees  of  reliability. 

These  are  mostly  based  on  the  assump- 
tion that  the  Copernican  Theory  is  correct; 
the  g-ravitational  methods,  now  in  favor 
with  astronomers,  further  assuming-  the 
correct  application  of  the  law  of  g-ravity  to 
the  workings  of  the  planetary  system.  The 
physical  method  also  assumes  that  lig'ht 
travels  with  the  same  velocity  throug'h  in- 
terplanetary space,  as  in  a  vacuum. 

While  I  am  wholly  incompetent,  and  also 
disinclined  to  criticise  the  physical  experi- 
ments pertaining-  to  this  latter  method,  yet 
I  would  sug-g-est  that  the  rays  of  lig-ht  from 
Jupiter's  satellites  may  pass  through  a  far 
lighter  aether  in  coming-  to  earth,  when  that 
planet  is  in  opposition,  than  when  it  is  in 
conjunction  ;  as  it  is  evident  the  rays  must, 
in  the  latter  case,  pass  throug'h  that  reg*ion 
surrounding  the  sun,  containing  the  zodiac- 
al lig'ht;  which,  whatever  it  may  be,  inter- 
poses a  so)}2cfhIn^  which  those  rays  must 


193  LECTURES. 

then  pass  throug-li,  which  they  do  not  have 
to  pass  throtio-h  when  the  planet  is  in  oppo- 
sition. And  mig-ht  not  those  inequalities  in 
the  eclipse  periods  of  Jvipiter's  satellites  be 
larg-ely  due  to  the  lig-ht-retarding-  influence 
of  a  denser  medium,  or  mig-ht  they  not  be 
easily  accounted  for  by  some  other  S3'steni 
than  that  of  Copernicus,  without  resort  to 
the  Equation  of  Lig^ht? 

My  estimate  of  the  methods  first  named, 
will  be  apparent  when  we  later  take  up  the 
subject  of  Universal  Gravitation  ;  while  the 
g-eometrical  methods  are  all  subject  to  what 
we  have  said,  and  may  say  further  respect- 
ing* the  uncertainties  of  refraction.  One  of 
these  methods  however  impressed  me  as  be- 
inof  so  nearly  independent  of  the  refraction 
of  the  earth's  atmosphere,  as  to  claim  my 
most  earnest  thoug-ht — I  refer  to  that  based 
on  a  Transit  of  Venvis. 

While  this  method  may  not  rank  hig-hest 
with  modern  astronomers,  3^et  it  appeared 
to  me  at  first  to  establish,  independently  of 
any  system,  such  an  immense  distance  for 
the  Sim  from  earth,  as  to  place  be3'ond  all 


IvECTURES.  199 

doubt  the  correctness  of  the  Copernican 
theory.  But  it  recurred  to  me  that  Venus 
is  accredited  with  having-  a  hig-hly  refractive 
atmosphere,  throug^h  which  those  rays  of 
sunlig-ht  must  pass  which  outline  her  dark 
disc  on  the  face  of  the  sun  during-  a  transit; 
and  mig-ht  not  this  condition  cause  compli- 
cations which  have  not  as  yet  been  properly 
estimated?  Let  us  as  briefly  as  may  be,  ex- 
amine this  question : — 

In  Fig-.  4,  (next  pag-e,)  E  represents  the 
earth,  J>'  the  sun,  and  the  small  dark  disc  c, 
Venus  in  central  transit.  Ey  the  aid  of  this 
diag'ram  we  will  now  consider  the  capacity 
of  Venus'  atmosphere  for  refracting"  rays 
of  sunlig'ht  passing"  throug^h  it. 

Those  rays  passing*  throug^h  its  outer  and 
thinner  portions  would  naturally  be  refract- 
ed least,  while  refraction  would  gradually 
increase  centre  ward,  or  toward  the  planet. 

The  same  effect  would  thus  be  produced 
as  if  the  rays  were  passing"  tliroug"h  a  lens 
having"  a  cross  section  of  the  peculiar  form 
represented  by  a  a,  in  Fl^.  4,  which  is  there 
substituted  for  the  planet's  atmosphere. 


200 


LECTURES, 


B.S-  4, 


O        o 


A    TRANSIT    OF    VENUS. 


LECTURES.  201 

Then,  referring-  to  the  diag-ram,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  the  ray  ;;/,  in  passing-  from  sun  to 
earth  will  suffer  little  or  no  refraction  from 
the  lens,  since  it  passes  throug-h  its  nearly 
plane  outer  edg-e  ;  but  the  ray  ;/,  passing- 
as  shown,  throug-h  a  hig-hly  refractive  part 
of  the  lens,  will  be  turned  from  its  course 
and  broug-ht  to  a  focus  with  the  ray  ;;^,  at 
the  earth's   surface. 

Observers  at  this  rig-ht  hand  earth  sta- 
tion would  then  see  the  sun  in  the  direction 
of  the  ang'le  of  vision  described  by  ;;/  and  n 
as  they  approach  the  earth,  and  slightly 
enlarg-ed,  as  it  really  apx3ears  during-  a  tran- 
sit of  Venus,  while  the  planet  would  appear 
on  its  disc,  as  at  b,  instead  of  at  b\  where 
it  w^ould  appear,  relatively  to  the  sun,  if  it 
were  visible  and  there  were  no  refraction ; 
while  observers  at  the  opposite  station,  as 
shown  by  the  dotted  lines,  w^ould  witness 
the  same  result  in  reversed  order,  thereby 
g-reatly  reducing-  the  true  parallax.  This 
mig-ht  also  explain  the  cause  of  that  drawn 
out  internal  contact  called  **the  black  drop" 
observed  durinof  a  Transit  of  Venus. 


202  LECTURES. 

But  it  will  doubtless  be  objected  that  the 
atmosphere  of  Venus  has  no  such  extent  as 
this  diao-ram  would  appear  to  g-ive  it;  but 
as  is  evidenced  by  the  narrow,  brig-ht  belt 
w^hich  is  seen  to  encircle  the  planet  \\hen 
entering"  on  a  transit,  the  hig-ht  of  its  atmos- 
phere must  be  many  times  less  than  its  ow  n 
diameter.  I  w^ould  answer  by  sugg^esting* 
that  this  luminous,  or  visible  belt  is  only 
the  misty,  or  vapor-charg-ed  portion  of  the 
planet's  atmosphere,  while  the  invisible,  or 
ckar  air  beyond  it,  thins  out  g-radually  into 
the  aether  of  space. 

Let  us  ag-ain,  by  the  aid  of  Fig-,  s,  (pag"e 
200)  consider  what  obstacle  the  atmosphere 
of  our  globe  interposes  to  gfaining-  a  true 
parallax  of  a  heavenly  body: — 

In  this  diag-ram,  E  represents  a  hemi- 
sphere of  the  earth,  with  its  atmosphere  a  a, 
while  i)i  and  )i  represent  stars  sending*  rays 
of  lig-lit  to  the  earth.  Now%  if  we  consider 
this  atmc  sphere,  a  a,  as  a  kns  of  an  equal 
density  througfhout,  a  little  knowdedg-e  of 
the  science  of  optics  wmII  tell  us  that  these 
rays  coiild  enter  the  lens   at  points  where 


lyKCTURES.  203 

they  mig-ht  be  refracted  parallel  to,  thoug-h 
a  little  removed  from  each  other,  as  shown 
at  the  left  of  the  ligaire;  but  if  the  two  ra^'s 
entered  the  lens  a  little  closer  tog-ether,  so 
that  they  came  to  a  focus  at  the  earth,  then 
they  would  no  long-er  be  refracted  parallel, 
and  we  would  g-et  a  parallax. 

But  as  our  atmosphere  is  not  of  uniform 
density,  and  does  not  refract  ra3^s  of  lig'ht 
thus,  but  in  curved  lines,  as  show^n  at  the 
right  of  the  iig-ure,  is  it  not  equally  clear 
that  these  rays  could  be  broug-ht  tog-ether 
0)1  the  same  plane  at  the  earth's  surface  by 
atmospheric  refraction,  as  is  there  show^n? 
And  as  we  behold  objects  in  the  direction  of 
those  portions  of  rays  reaching-  our  eyes,  no 
parallax  would  be  obtained ;  and  I  believe 
this  to  constitute  the  chief  bar  to  g-aining-  a 
parallax  of  a  heavenly  body  by  observing-  it 
from  opposite  sides  of  the  earth. 

And  would  not  this  also  assist  Venus'  at- 
mosphere in  still  further  reducing-  the  sun's 
parallax  toward  that  narrow  limit  observed 
during-  a  transit  of  Venus,  aside  from  other 
possible  causes,  whose  existence  and  effects 


204  LECTURES. 

arc  not  so  apparent?  These  diag'rams  are 
necessarily  very  much  intensilied,  for  the 
sake  of  plainer  illustration,  but  I  respect- 
fully commend  the  principles  they  represent 
to  a  careful  consideration. 

But  the  immensity  of  stellar  space  is  con- 
tended for,  from  the  fact  that  the  so-called 
fixed  stars,  observed  through  a  telescope, 
appear  smaller  than  \\  hen  viewed  with  the 
unaided  eye;  and  the  larg-er  the  telescope 
used,  the  smaller  do  they  appear.  Yet  the 
use  of  the  telescope  brings  to  view  myriads 
of  stars  which  the  eye  could  not  discover. 
Astronomers  tell  us  that  this  is  on  account 
of  their  immense  distances  from  us. 

Is  this  sound  logic?  Can  we  conceive  of 
anything  being  so  distant,  that  to  bring  it 
hundreds  of  times  nearer  to  us,  (as  the  large 
telescopes  do,  optically,)  it  a\  ill  appear,  not 
many  times  larger,  but  really  smaller  than 
it  did  before?  Pardon  my  stupidit},  Men 
of  Science  !  but  I  have  not  been  able  to  re- 
ceive this  tlieorv. 

The  only  conclusion  I  have  been  able  to 
arrive  at  is,  that  the  light  from  those  more 


LECTURES.  205 

distant  orbs,  in  passing-  throug-h  the  aether 
of  space  and  our  adjacent  atmosphere,  has 
already,  on  reaching-  us,  sulTered  so  much 
from  reflection  and  refraction,  that  all  but 
its  brig-htest  and  most  direct  rays  have  be- 
come, in  a  manner  polarized,  and  are  extin- 
g-uished  by  further  deflection  in  a  telescope; 
and  the  more  powerful  the  instrument,  the 
g"reater  the  reduction. 

That  optical  science  is  not  yet  mastered, 
is  evident  from  the  trustworthy  report  of  a 
party  of  g'entlemen  making-  investigations  a 
few  years  ag-o  in  a  certain  branch  of  optics, 
and  w^ho  discovered  —  or  rather  reaffirmed  a 
former  discovery  —  that  a  ship  at  sea  whose 
topsails  only  are  visible  to  the  unaided  eye, 
above  the  horizon,  may  be  broug-ht  fully  in 
view  by  the  use  of  the  telescope. 

This  report  was  how^ever,  I  think,  pretty 
g-enerally  discredited  by  the  scientists  ;  and 
while  I  have  made  no  special  observations 
in  that  direction,  yet  I  am  inclined  to  accept 
it,  from  the  fact  that  w^hen  serving  in  my 
country's  navy,  whenever  during  a  "mast- 
head lookout"  I  reported  a  sail  just  barely 


20()  LECTURES. 

visible  to  my  unaided  eye  above  the  horizon, 
the  officer  of  the  watch,  thoug-h  60  feet  be- 
low me,  would  level  his  g'lass  in  the  direction 
indicated,  and  soon  respond,  "I  see  it !" 

But  how  could  this  be  possible?  I  have 
made  no  careful  study  of  the  subject,  but 
the  first  thouo-ht  occuring-  to  me  was,  that 
visible  objects  emit  rays  of  lig-lit  differing- 
in  refrang-ibility,  which  are  refracted  in  dif- 
ferent deg-rees  in  passing'  throug^h  an  atmos- 
phere of  unequal  density;  the  more  direct 
ones  only  being-  able  to  form  an  imag-e  of  a 
distant  object  on  the  retina  of  the  unaided 
eye;  while  those  which  are  refracted  much 
more,  may  yet  be  collected  by  the  use  of  the 
telescope  in  sufficient  numbers  to  convey  to 
the  assisted  eye  the  imag'e  of  an  object  that 
is  really  below  the  horizon. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  the  discovery  referred 
to  leads  me  to  believe  that  we  have  much 
to  learn  yet  in  the  science  of  Optics. 

But  leaving"  now  the  subject  of  refraction 
of  lig'ht,  we  will  proceed  to  consider  some 
of  the  peculiarities  of  that  g-rcat  fountain  of 
lig-ht,  the  sun   itself. 


LECTURES.  207 

THE    SUN    SPOT   PARADOX. 

The  theory  appears  to  be  still  accepted 
that  the  central  mass  of  the  sun  is  a  smaller 
body  inside  the  luminous  shell  which  we  see, 
and  which  is  known  as  the  photosphere,  or 
light-g'iving'  sphere  of  the  sun.  This  photo- 
sphere appears  to  consist  of  hig-hly  incan- 
descent vapors,  in  which  there  are  at  times 
dark  depressions,  observable  by  the  aid  of 
the  telescope,  commonly  called  sun  spots ; 
which,  moving-  as  they  do  across  the  sun's 
disc,  have  enabled  astronomers  to  not  only 
discover,  by  close  and  continued  observation, 
that  the  sun  turns  around,  but  to  estimate 
the  time  and  direction  of  its  rotation,  with 
the  inclination  of  its  axis. 

In  astronomical  text-books  we  frequently 
see  a  diagram,  as  in  Fig".  6,  (next  pag-e)  for 
indicating-  the  direction  of  these  spots  on  the 
sun's  disc  at  different  periods  of  the  year; 
the  straig-ht  lines  and  arrows  showing-  their 
course  in  June  and  December,  and  the  curv- 
ed lines  the  same  in  September  and  March, 
as  seen  from  the  earth. 


208 


LECTURES. 


The  text-books  however,  usually  have  the 
axis  of  b  and  d,  vertical  in  perspective.  I 
discovered  that  this  was  an  error;  but  as 
an  eminent  American  astronomer  used  that 
form  of  illustration  in  one  of  his  text-books, 
I  corresponded  with  the  g-entleman  concern- 
inof  the  matter;  and  after  due  consideration 
he  admitted  the  error  by  further  explaining- 
that,  at  the  periods  of  the  year  indicated, 
the  paths  of  the  sun  spots,  as  seen  from  the 
earth,  do  not,  and  could  not  appear  thus ; 
but  in  a  manner  indicating*  the  inclination 
of  the  sun's  axis,  relatively  to  the  earth's 
axis,  as  in  b  and  d,  in  the  fio-ure. 

This,  in  a  Copernican  svstem,  would  indi- 
cate that  the  sun's  axis  is  inclined  nearly  in 
the  direction  of  the  equinoctial  points  ;  the 


LECTURES.  209 

apparently  side  view  a  presenting-  itself  to 
us  in  June,  the  other  side  view  c,  when  we 
g-et  directly  on  the  opposite  side  in  Decem- 
ber; the  partially  end  view  b  nearly  at  the 
September  equinox,  and  d  in  March. 

The  first  impression  I  received  from  this 
fig-ure  and  its  accompanying-  explanation  in 
the  text-book  was,  that  it  gave  substantial 
proof  of  the  earth  indeed  traveling  around 
the  sun;  for  how  could  the  sun  present  these 
different  phases,  except  it  were  viewed  from 
different  points  of  observation? 

But  as  I  pursued  the  subject  further,  I 
found  by  experiment  that  if  the  earth  were 
at  the  centre,  and  the  sun  revolving  around 
it  in  the  earth's  supposed  annual  orbit,  the 
sun's  axis  meanwhile  being-  constantly  in- 
clined in  the  direction  of  some  fixed  point  in 
the  heavens,  the  course  of  the  sun  spots,  as 
seen  from  the  earth  at  the  four  periods  indi- 
cated, would  appear  as  shown  in  the  fig-ure; 
and  that  in  this  case  Earth  around  Sun,  and 
Sun  around  Earth,  are  reciprocal,  or  inter- 
changeable terms. 

These  sun  spots  however,  do  not  appear 


210  LECTURES. 

to  move  with  a  uniform  velocity ;  but  contra 
to  vv^hat  mig'ht  be  expected,  those  farthest 
from  the  sun's  equator, and  therefore  having* 
the  lesser  circumference  to  travel,  appear  to 
us  to  take  the  g-reater  time  in  g'oing'  around 
it  —  apparently  about  27  days  ;  while  those 
nearest  its  equator,  and  having-  the  g-reater 
circumference  to  travel,  appear  to  g-o  round 
it  in  about  25  days. 

As  the  lig-lit,  floating-,  vaporous  photo- 
sphere w^ould  be  likely  to  remain  quiescent, 
except  as  it  is  carried  along-  by  friction  with 
the  rotating-  inner  mass  of  the  sun,  the  nat- 
ural tendency  would  be,  for  those  portions 
to  fall  behind  which  have  the  larg-er  circuit 
to  travel ;  but  as  a  matter  of  fact,  this  order 
appears  to  us,   reversed. 

Now,  if  the  sun  really  is  the  centre  of  our 
planetary  system,  and  is,  relatively  to  the 
earth's  orbital  motion,  at  rest,  except  as  it 
turns  on  its  axis,  then  viewed  at  the  g-reat 
distance  lying-  between  us  and  the  sun,  these 
sun  spots  must  certainly  g-o  around  the  sun 
in  the  order  in  which  they  appear  to  us  to 
move, — that  is,  those  nearest  to  its  equator 


LECTURES.  211 

g-oing-  around  it  in  the  shortest  time:  which 
however  astronomers  concede  is  the  opposite 
of  what  might  be  expected,  being*  entirel}^ 
inconsistent  with  natural  results. 

Experimenting*  with  a  view  to  ascertain- 
ing- if  this  paradoxical  behavior  of  the  sun 
spots  (from  a  Copernican  standpoint)  would 
not  harmonize  with  natural  results  in  some 
other  system,  I  finall}^  produced  an  appara- 
tus which  gives  ver}^  interesting'  results.  It 
is  designated  by  the  letter  B,  in  group  of 
physical  apparatus,  page  180  ;  and  its  pri- 
mary parts  outlined  in  the  diag-ram.  Fig:  7, 
next  page,  which  I  will  describe  as  follows: 

The  two  circular  areas,  E  and  S,  repre- 
sent respectively  the  earth  and  the  sun.  The 
axis  of  the  earth  disc,  E,  has  its  bearing's 
in  the  standard,  A,  and  is  driven  by  a  crank 
secured  to  it.  The  arm,  B,  to  which  the  sun 
disc,  S,  is  pivoted,  is  connected  by  g-earing 
with  the  earth-axis,  so  that  when  the  earth 
disc  is  rotated  in  one  direction,  the  sun  disc 
is  carried  slowly  around  it  in  the  opposite 
direction,  describing  the  orbit  shown  by  the 
dotted  circle  in  the  fio-ure. 


212 


LECTURES. 


SUN   SPOT   APPARATUS. 

In  illustrating-  with  this  apparatus,  the 
earth  disc  E^  is  caused  to  turn  on  its  axis 
from  west  to  east,  or  counter-clockwise,  one 
complete  rotation  in  time  representing-  25 
hours  and  49  minutes,  while  the  sun  disc  .S' 
revolves  in  the  opposite  direction,  as  shown 
by  the  arrows,  in  a  fraction  over  14  davs  ; 


LECTUKES.  213 

or  in  such  time  as  to  come  into  conjunction 
with  the  earth-point  of  observation  (the  ra- 
dial line  c\)  every  24  hours.  The  days  are 
indicated  by  a  bell,  which  is  struck  at  each 
of  these  conjunctions. 

The  sun  fig-ure  S,  is  composed  of  two 
separate  discs,  one  smaller  than  the  other, 
and  each  bearing-  a  sun  spot  on  its  margin, 
as  is  shown.  These  discs  are  rotated  inde- 
pendently, but  in  the  same  direction,  on  the 
sun  axis,  by  means  of  separate  belt  connec- 
tions with  the  central  shaft,  or  earth  axis  ; 
the  outer,  or  equatorial  sun  spot  appearing- 
from  c  to  go  round  the  sun  in  the  opposite 
direction  to  its  orbital  motion,  in  25  days  ; 
while  the  inner  spot  takes  27  days. 

In  demonstrating  this,  both  sun  spots  are 
brought  opposite  to,  or  in  conjunction  with 
the  semi-meridian  c\  and  the  apparatus  set 
in  motion,  while  the  bell  calls  off  the  days. 
In  just  the  periods  above  indicated,  these 
spots  will  respectively  appear  to  go  around 
the  sun  figure,  by  coming  to  conjunction 
again  with  the  earth  meridian,  c. 

But  this  only  gives  the  apparent  periods 


214  LECTURES. 

of  revolution  of  the  sun  spots,  as  seen  from 
the  earth,  while  the  sun  is  always  chang-ing- 
its  position,  relatively  to  the  earth,  in  mov- 
inof  around  it.  The  question  now  arises, — 
What  are  the  absolute  periods  of  these  sun 
spots ;  or  in  what  time  do  they  absolutely 
pfo  around  the  sun? 

We  can  determine  this  by  reducing-  the 
central  mass  of  the  sun  to  a  state  of  rest — 
that  is,  deprive  it  absolutely  of  all  rotation, 
and  then  note  how  the  sun  spots  will  move 
relatively  to  it.  We  will  accomplish  our 
purpose  by  loosely  pivoting-  the  small  dark 
disc  D,  (at  left  of  fig'ure)  to  the  sun's  axis, 
to  represent  its  central  portion.  It  carries 
a  pointer  H,  and  a  weig-ht  W  on  the  oppo- 
site side,  which  by  the  force  of  g-ravity  will 
keep  it  always  in  the  same  position  —  that 
is,  absolutely  without  rotation,  the  pointer 
always  being-  directed  upward. 

If  we  now  turn  the  apparatus  in  the  same 
direction  as  before,  starting-  with  both  sun 
spots  exactly  at  the  pointer,  and  note  how 
thev  move  relatively  to  it,  with  no  reference 
to  the  earth  whatever,  we  will  discover  that 


LECTIJKKS.  215 

they  not  only  go  round  the  sun  (relatively  to 
the  pointer)  in  the  opposite  direction  to  the 
one  they  appeared  to  move  in  before,  as  seen 
from  the  earth,  but  that  the  inner  spot  will 
now  complete  its  circuit  first,  by  coming-  lo 
conjunction  with  the  XDointer  ag-ain  in  just 
29  days,  while  the  outer,  or  equatorial  spot 
falls  behind,  and  will  not  come  to  conjunc- 
tion with  the  pointer  under  three  days  more; 
making-  its  absolute  period  32  days,  w^iile 
that  of  the  inner  spot  is  but  29  days. 

This  result,  it  will  be  seen,  completely 
obliterates  the  Copernican  paradox  ;  as  the 
sun  spots  now  move  in  the  order  we  mig-ht 
expect  them  to  move,  thereby  accounting-  in 
a  natural  way  for  that  mysterious  factor  in 
the  sun's  rotation,  its  apparent  !Rquatorial 
Acceleration. 

Men  of  Science  !  is  there  not  a  deep  sig-- 
nificance  in  this?  Here  we  have  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  phenomena  (viewed  in  the 
lig-ht  of  Copernicus,)  —  a  condition  utterly 
irreconcilable  with  his  theory,  under  natural 
laws,  which  yet  g-ives  evidence,  throug-h  a 
fair  and  positive  mechanical  demonstration, 


216  LECTIIKES. 

of  being-  in  natural  and  perfect  harmon}^ 
with  that  cosmic  system  outlined  in  the  Sa- 
cred Scriptures. — A  system  that  obeyed  the 
command  of  a  Joshua,  and  g-ave  heed  to  the 
pathetic  prayer  of  a  Hezekiah  ;  whose  won- 
drous working's  were  pondered  and  extolled 
by  the  philosophic  Job,  and  whose  praises 
sung-  by  the  poetic  David. — A  system  that 
survived  the  wisdom  of  a  Solomon,  and  was 
mirrored  in  the  prophetic  vision  of  Ezekiel. 
Shall  a  few  w^ords  soberly  and  considerately 
spoken  in  its  defense,  be  denied  a  sober  and 
considerate  hearing-? 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

IvKCTURE   III. — NATURE  VS.  COPERNICUS. 

In  observing-  the  movements  of  the  heav- 
enly bodies,  many  inequalities  have  been 
discovered  from  time  to  time, — some  of  but 
slig-ht  sig-niiicance,  but  among-  them  one  of 
that  important  body,  the  sun,  early  became 
conspicuous,  which  is  of  such  a  mag-nitude 
that  the  Copernican  school  have  g-iven  it 
much  attention  in  the  past,  and  after  long*- 
continued  and  patient  measuring-  and  modi- 
fying-, trimming  and  adjusting-,  they  have 
adapted  their  theory  to  lit  it  very  well,  and 
now  employ  it  as  one  of  the  strong-  pillars  of 
its  support.  I  refer  to  that  inequality  treat- 
ed on  in  astronomical  works  under  title  of, 

EQUATION   OF    TIME. 

When  I  first  took  up  this  subject,  failing- 
to  be  a  g-ood  enoug-h  mathematician  to  quite 


218  LECTURES. 

understand  the  Copernican  solution  of  the 
problem,  I  fell  to  doubting*  its  correctness  ; 
and  to  settle  the  matter,  I  constructed  an 
apparatus  (indicated  by  C\  in  g-roup  of  ap- 
paratus, pag-e  180  j  for  mechanically  testing- 
the  same,  in  which  the  earth  is  represented 
by  a  g'lobe  adapted  to  move  around  the  sun- 
centre  in  the  earth's  supposed  annual  orbit, 
complying-  faithfully  with  Kepler's  law  of 
"equal  areas  in  equal  times,"  and  all  other 
conditions  of  the  Copernican  theory. 

When  my  device  was  completed,  I  confi- 
dently expected  that  it  w^ould  disclose  to  me 
an  error;  but  in  this  I  was  disappointed,  for 
as  I  carefully  moved  the  g-lobe  through  its 
orbit,  the  indicator  traced  on  its  surface 
wnth  strict  iidelit}^  those  devious  transverse 
paths  indicated  by  the  heavy  double  looped 
line  at  the  centre  of  Fig-.  S,  (the  next  pag-e), 
which  paths  mark  those  variations  of  the 
sun  throug-hout  the  3  ear  from  the  meridian 
of  mean,  or  clock  time,  fthe  horizontal  line 
.V  iV,)  w^hich  are  recorded  in  our  almanacs 
in  the  column,  'Sun  fast,'  and  'Sun  slow.' 

As  it  traced  this  looped  circuit,  which  I 


LECTURES. 


219 


had  drawn  from  tables  in  the  Ephemeris, 
and  knew  to  be  correct,  I  stood  in  silent  awe 
contemplating-  the  wonderful  accuracy  and 
surpassing"  g'enius  of  the  master  minds  who 
had  elaborated  the  system. 


Fig-.  8, — SPIRAL  ORBIT  OF  SUN. 


220  LECTURE?. 

So  the  result  of  my  first  experiment  with 
the  apparatus  only  g-ave  me  the  small  satis- 
faction of  having"  made  a  mechanical  success 
of  my  work,  w^hile  its  real  object  appeared 
defeated.  But  I  did  not  rest  well  under  de- 
feat; and  on  carefully  reviewing-  the  matter 
I  found  that  I  could  so  transpose  its  primary 
parts  as  to  have  the  earth  in  the  centre  and 
the  sun  g'oing*  round  it  in  the  earth's  orbit; 
and  that  by  strict  compliance  with  all  the 
conditions  of  the  first  experiment,  precisely 
the  same  results  would  be  obtained ;  and 
that  in  this  case  also,  as  in  that  of  the  sun 
spot  problem,  Earth  around  Sun,  and  Sun 
around  Karth,  are  reciprocal  terms. 

But  how  would  I  reconcile  the  apparent 
annual  revolution  of  the  sun  with  that  semi- 
monthly revolution  indicated  by  the  device 
for  illustrating-  the  sun  spot  paradox? 

In  Fig-.  8,  we  assume  the  earth  to  lie  at 
the  centre  of  the  outlying*  dotted  circle,  its 
axis  being-  in  line  with  .V  N;  while  the  solid 
vertical  lines  represent  the  circuits  of  the 
sun's  s|:>iral  orbit  in  revolving-  from  east  to 
west  around  the  earth,  in  a  little  more  than 


LECTURES.  221 

14  days,  and  in  moving-  also  from  north  to 
south,  or  from  solstice  to  solstice  ;  the  dot- 
ted lines  showing-  the  same  in  returning-.  It 
will  be  observed  that  the  circuits  of  this 
spiral  orbit  are  broader  over  the  northern, 
than  over  the  southern  hemisphere,  thereby 
producing-  Aphelion  and  Perihelion. 

I  have  found  that  a  movement  like  this 
w^ould  cause  the  sun,  as  seen  from  the  earth, 
to  appear  perfectly  to  describe  that  inclined 
annual  orbit  on  the  plane  of  the  ecliptic, 
now  called  the  earth's  orbit,  by  the  stars 
revolving  around  the  earth  in  the  same  di- 
rection as  the  sun,  (from  east  to  west,)  but 
enoug-h  faster  to  g-ain  one  complete  revolu- 
tion on  the  sun  in  a  year;  w^hich  w^ould  give 
the  sun  the  appearance  of  moving-  eastward 
among  the  stars. 

It  is  a  remarkable  coincidence,  that  the 
areas  described  on  either  side  of  the  equator 
by  the  looped  circuit  of  sun  variations,  (see 
Fig-,  <?,)  bear  an  almost  perfect  inverse  pro- 
portion to  the  land  areas  in  the  hemispheres 
of  the  earth  over  which  they  respectively 
extend  ;  yet  it  may  have  no  sig-nificance. 


222  LECTURES. 

But  astronomers  tell  us  they  have  one 
direct  and  conclusive  proof  that  the  earth 
moves  around  the  sun,^ — not  the  sun  around 
the  earth.  And  thoug-h  they  admit  that  it 
is  the  only  direct  proof  they  have,  yet  from 
its  infallibility,  they  esteem  it  all-sufficient. 
This  strong-  tower  of  their  defence  is  called, 

THE    ABERRATION    OF    LIGHT. 

Standard  astronomical  text-books  define 
Aberration  substantially  as  follows  : 

It  was  long-  since  observed  that  the  so- 
called  fixed  stars  have  each  an  apparently 
independent,  small,  annual  movement;  those 
in  the  ecliptic  appearing-  to  oscillate  a  little 
backward  and  for^^ard,  those  near  the  poles 
of  the  ecliptic  apparently  describing-  small 
circles,  while  at  intermediate  places  they 
describe  ellipses,  more  or  less  drawn  out. 

Certainly  it  would  have  been  absurd  to 
conclude  that  all  the  stars  really  have  these 
separate  movements,  but  the  appearances 
having'  been  duly  verified,  astronomers  soon 
l^egfan  to  inquire  for  the  cause. 

The  discoverv  having-  alreadv  l)een  made 


LECTURES.  223 

that  lig"lit  takes  a  deiinite  time  in  coming" 
from  a  celestial  body  to  the  earth,  the  theo- 
ry was  advanced  and  adopted,  that  since  the 
earth  also  moved  round  the  sun  at  the  rate 
of  nearly  66,000  miles  an  hour,  these  two 
causes,  operating*  tog'ether,  produced  those 
apparent  movements  we  have  described. 

The  natural,  or  at  least  superficial  deduc- 
tion likely  to  be  drawm  from  such  a  theory 
would  be,  that  as  lig-ht  emanating*  from  a 
celestial  body  takes  some  time  to  reach  the 
rapidly  moving*  earth,  we  would  get  ahead 
of  the  star,  and  would  have  to  look  back  to 
see  it;  but  we  are  told  that  the  reverse  is 
the  case — vje  look  ahead  to  see  the  star. 

Astronomers,  in  formulating*  their  theory 
to  meet  this  condition,  compare  descending- 
rays  of  lig*ht  to  drops  of  falling*  rain  ;  and  a 
favorite  illustration  with  them  is,  that  if  in 
running*  throug*h  the  rain  we  hold  uprig-ht  a 
tube  resembling*  the  tube  of  a  telescope,  but 
open  at  the  ends,  those  rain-drops  entering- 
the  top  of  the  tube  will  not  fall  throug'h  it, 
but  owing*  to  our  rapid  forw^ard  movement, 
the   rear   side   of   the   tube   will   have   been 


224  LECTURES. 

carried  ahead  sufficiently  to  catch  the  drops 
in  their  descent,  and  in  order  to  have  them 
fall  throug-h  the  tube,  we  must  lean  it  ahead 
as  we  would  carry  an  umbrella  when  mov- 
ing- rapidly  in  the  rain.  Then  for  the  rain, 
substitute  lig^ht,  and  the  earth's  movement 
for  yonr  own,  they  say,  and  you  have  what 
we  term  Aberration. 

This  is  plausible,  but  is  it  correct  reason- 
ing"? In  the  first  place,  what  analog-y  is 
there  between  rain-drops  and  rays  of  lig-ht  ? 
Are  they  not  simply  little  g-lobules  of  water, 
without  continuity  or  linear  dimension?  But 
lig*ht  comes  to  us  in  continuous  rays,  —  no 
section  of  a  ray  so  short  but  that  it  has  a 
linear  dimension  and  determinate  direction, 
of  which  the  eye  takes  cog-nizance. 

We  will  now  use  a  kind  of  mechanical  di- 
agram for  studying-  a  beam  of  lig-ht  having- 
those  characteristics  which  science  ascribes 
to  it.  —  In  Fig-,  g,  the  line  A  represents  the 
earth's  orbit;  E  a  portion  of  the  earth,  and 
D  a  star  sending-  a  beam  of  rays  to  earth; 
while  C  represents  one  of  those  hug-e  re- 
flecting- telescopes,  used   for  exploring-  the 


LECTURES. 


225 


heavens.  It  is  inclined  in  the  direction  the 
earth  moves,  for  aberration,  and  is  ready  to 
observe  the  star  B^   in  passing*. 


Fig.  g,  - 

Now  if  we  consider  this  beam  of  rays  as 
being-  stationary,  like  their  source,  the  star. 


226  LECTURES. 

( relatively  to  the  earth's  orbital  motion,) 
then  as  the  telescope  moves  along  with  the 
earth,  it  cuts  throug-h  these  stationary  rays, 
and  immediately  they  descend  into  the  tube 
zuifhoict  any  cliang'e  of  direction  vjhatever^ 
and  precisely  as  if  the  earth  had  stopped 
after  carrying-  the  telescope  directly  beneath 
them, —  except,  that  as  the  earth  moves  in 
its  orbit  with  about  the  one  ten-thousandth 
part  of  the  velocity  of  light,  a  telescope  like 
Lord  Rosse's,  w^ith  a  tube  7  feet  in  diame- 
ter and  52  feet  long,  would  be  carried  ahead 
one  sixteenth  of  an  inch  while  the  rays  were 
descending  from  the  top,  to  the  bottom  of 
the  tube,  and  a  little  less  than  one  thirteen- 
hundredth  part  of  them  would  theoretically 
be  cut  off  from  the  speculum  S  below%  by 
the  front  of  the  tube. — Theoretically  I  say, 
bnt  not  really  so;  for  since  the  speculum  is 
but  6  feet  in  diameter,  it  necessarily  has  a 
margin  of  6  inches  around  the  inside  of  the 
seven  foot  tube. 

Is  not  this  a  truthful  presentation  of  the 
case?  But  wherein  exists  then  the  obstacle 
to  direct  vision  —  where  does  the  aberration 


LECTURES.  227 

come  in  ?  Do  we  not  see  the  star  by  its  direct 
rays  falling-  on  the  speculum,  and  therefore 
see  it  just  where  it  is? 

But  it  may  be  sug-g-ested  that  I  have  used 
the  reflecting  telescope  in  illustrating-,  be- 
cause it  suits  my  purpose  best;  and  as  this 
important  question  deserves  to  be  treated 
fairly,  we  will  also  consider  what  results  a 
"Refractor"  would  give  : 

Assuming  that  the  tube  of  our  refracting 
telescope  is  pointed  in  the  exact  direction  of 
a  ray  of  light  coming  from  a  distant  star, 
and  that  this  ray  passes  through  the  centre 
of  its  object-glass,  if  the  telescope  were  at 
rest,  the  ray  would  pass  down  the  tube,  di- 
rectly to  the  centre  of  the  eye-piece  below. 
But  as  the  eye-piece  and  object-glass  are 
both  carried  ahead  by  the  earth's  motion, 
the  ray  would  fall  slightly  behind  the  centre 
of  the  eye-piece — unless  we  inclined  our  tel- 
escope a  little  in  the  direction  of  its  motion. 

Ah  !  the  novice  will  triumphantly  say,  I 
thouofht  so  !  But  the  man  of  science  will  at 
once  see  that  we  have  only  been  considering 
the  results  due  to  a  piece  of  plain  g-lass  for 


22S  LECTURES. 

an  objective,  with  no  refractive  pow  er  w  hat- 
ever.  Let  us  now  exchang-e  this  for  a  more 
correct  form  of  objective  —  a  plano-convex 
lens.   (See  sectional  cut  I)  in  /^/^.  g.) 

This  objective  has  the  power  to  refract 
all  rays  of  lig-ht  falling'  perpendicularly  any- 
where on  its  plane  outer  surface,  practically 
to  the  centre  of  the  eye-piece,  at  the  other 
end  of  the  tube,  and  a  ray  passing*  throug*h 
this  objective,  would  as  before,  on  account 
of  the  advance  of  the  earth  in  its  orbit,  pass 
a  little  toward  the  rearward  edg-e  of  the 
objective  in  descending  the  tube;  but  unlike 
when  it  passed  throug'h  the  plain  gflass,  it 
would  now,  as  shown  by  its  four  positions 
at  D,  in  the  fig^ure,  be  refracted,  or  turned 
forward  precisely  the  distance  that  the  eye- 
piece and  objective  were  carried  ahead  ;  or 
in  short,  it  would  be  focused  on  the  centre 
of  the  eye-piece  at  whatever  part  of  the  lens 
the  ray  passed  througfh;  clearly  requiring* 
no  forward  inclination  of  the  tube  to  convey 
it  to  the  eye  of  the  observer. 

This  theor}^  of  aberration  however  g-ains 
its  chief  support  from  yet  another  branch  of 


LKCTURES.  229 

astronomical  research,  which  appears  to  be 
in  harmony  with  it,  and  it  is  the  proud  boast 
of  the  Coper nican  school  that  they  could  not 
be  made  to  ag-ree  in  any  other  system  than 
their  own.    This  important  coadjutor,  is  — 

STELLAR   PARALLAX. 

Measuring  the  parallax  of  a  star,  we  are 
told  is  the  most  delicate,  and  it  seems  to  us, 
the  most  indefinite  operation  in  practical 
astronomy.  Of  the  two  principal  methods 
employed,  that  called  the  absolute^  is  found 
to  be  so  sensitive  to  temperature  effects,  — 
unequal  refractions,  varying-  expansions  of 
instruments,  etc. — as  to  rather  gfive  to  the 
other,  or  differential  method  the  preference. 
This  latter  method  however,  as  its  name 
implies,  only  g-ives  comparative  results,  and 
is  devoid  of  that  precision  w4iich  alone  can 
satisfy  the  unbiased  practical  mind. 

But  what  more  particularly  interests  us 
at  this  point  is,  in  what  w^ay  does  it  fortify 
the  theory  of  aberration? — In  Fig-.  /o,(next 
pao-e)  the  larg-e  circle  represents  the  earth's 
orbit,   with  the  sun  near  its  centre,   while 


230 


LECTURES. 


the  small  circles  represent  the  earth  at  the 
four  quarters  of  its  annual  circuit.  Kach 
earth  figure  carries  a  hug-e  telescope,  for 
observing-  a  distant  star  lying  overhead,  in 
the  direction  of  the  dotted  line  r  c. 


Fl'fr.  lo, — ABERRATION  &  PARAEEAX. 


LECTURES.  231 

Now,  if  aberration  and  parallax  came  to- 
g^ether,  it  would  be  easy  to  dispose  of  the 
former,  b}^  calling*  the  visible  displacements 
all  parallax;  but  we  find  that  they  really 
do  come  just  90°  apart;  and  since  it  is  clear 
that  a  parallax  of  that  star,  in  the  direction 
of  c  c,  could  only  be  g^ained  from  the  t\^  o 
outlying"  points,  E.  P.  and  W.  P. ,  the  inter- 
mediate places,  E.  A .  and  W.  A .  must  nec- 
essarily be  the  aberration  points,  or  points 
of  maximum  aberration;  and  while  at  E.  P. 
and  W.  P.  we  theoretically  incline  our  tele- 
scope less  than  1"  of  arc  for  observing*  the 
g-reatest  stellar  parallax,  we  have  it  inclined 
at  E.  A.  and  W.  A.  20"  for  aberration. 

Is  not  this,  after  all,  overwhelming*  proof 
of  the  correctness  of  aberration,  as  well  as 
of  the  Copernican  theory?  Or  is  there  some 
other  system  under  which  these  conditions 
could  be  made  to  harmonize?  This  was  the 
hardest  problem  that  I  ever  encountered, — 
and  when  the  solution  was  finally  reached, 
it  appeared  about  the  simplest.  I  will  now 
endeavor  to  g-ive  the  result  obtained,  by  the 
aid  of  the  diag-ram,   Eig:  ii. — next  pag-e. 


232 


LECTURES. 


Fig-,  II. — ABERRATION  &  PARALLAX. 

In  this  fig-ure,  the  disc  described  by  the 
larg-e  circle  represents  the  starry  sphere  ; 
all  the  stars  revolving-  independently  (except 
as  they  attract  each  other)  in  slig-htly  ellip- 
tical orbits,  around  one  common  eccentric 
pnint,  indicated  by  c\ — the  earth-axis,  rep- 
resented by  the  samll  dark  circle,  lying-  a 
little  outside  of  that  point,  while  the  dotted 


LECTURES.  233 

circle  represents  the  earth's  circumference. 
The  lines  radiating-  from  the  earth-axis  ex- 
tend in  the  directions  of  what  we  will,  for 
convenience  in  illustrating-,  call  the  maxim- 
um points  of  eastern  and  western  parallax, 
marked  E.  P.  and  W.  P.  ,  and  eastern  and 
western  aberration — E.  A.  and  W.  A.  The 
small  dots  on,  and  at  the  termini  of  the  lines 
running-  from  c,  represent  stars,  for  observ- 
ing- aberration  and  parallax. 

Now%  if  the  sun  S,  and  the  stars  revolve 
in  the  direction  of  the  arrows  around  the 
earth,  the  stars  moving-  enoug-h  faster  than 
the  sun  to  g-ain  one  complete  revolution  on 
it  in  a  year,  thus  g-iving-  it  the  appearance 
of  moving-  eastward  among-  the  stars,  in  six 
months  the  star  «,  for  example,  w^hich  now 
appears  a  little  to  the  left,  or  easterly  from 
the  earth-perpendicular  line  ;/  (as  seen  from 
the  earth)  would  g-ain  a  half  revolution  on 
the  sun,  and  relatively  to  earth  and  sun,  ap- 
pear at  <?',  or  a  little  to  the  rig-ht,  or  west 
of  the  earth-perpendicular  line  n\  thereby 
g-iving-  us  a  parallax  of  that  star;  while  of 
the  star  b,  that  is  still  on  the  perpendicular 


234  LECTURES. 

line,  no  parallax  would  be  obtained;  or  we 
would  say,  it  has  no  parallax. 

In  three  months'  time,  and  ag-ain  in  nine 
months  we  would  have  both  stars  on  the  ra- 
dial lines  leading"  from  earth-centre  to  E.A. 
and  W.A.,  respectively.  But  these  lines, 
though  touching-  the  outer  circle  at  just  90° 
from  the  lines  //,  ;/,  are  not  like  them,  per- 
pendicular to  the  earth;  but  owing-  to  the 
slig-ht  eccentricity  of  the  centre  c,  of  stellar 
revolution,  and  of  the  earth,  they  are  a  little 
inclined,  so  that  we  g-et  an  eastern  aberra- 
tion of  both  stars  in  the  direction  of  E.A. 
and  a  western  aberration  of  the  same  in  the 
direction  of    W.  A . 

It  may  however  be  sug-g-ested  that  while 
such  a  plan  would  produce  those  apparent 
oscillating-  movements  of  stars  in  the  eclip- 
tic, yet  it  would  not  pn^duce  that  apparent 
circular  motion  of  those  stars  near  the  poles 
of  the  ecliptic. 

While  it  mig-ht  be  difficult  to  refute  such 
a  criticism  on  paper,  3'et  I  have  anticipated 
it  by  so  constructing-  the  physical  apparatus 
made  for  illustrating-  this  plan,  (indicated 


LECTURES.  235 

by  D,  in  group  of  apparatus,  page  180, — 
from  which  the  diag^ram  in  Fig-.n ,  is  taken) 
that  a  star  can  be  moved  on  one  of  the  radi- 
al cords,  to  the  pole  of  the  ecliptic,  and  a 
small  circle  placed  over  it,  so  connected  with 
the  apparatus  as  to  move  concentric  to  the 
earth,  like  a  fixture  on  its  surface,  while  the 
star  moves  eccentric  to  it,  as  before;  then 
on  revolving-  both  around  the  earth-centre, 
the  star  is  seen  to  move  around  the  small 
circle;  while  at  intermediate  places  it  will 
describe  that  compromise  between  a  circle 
and  an  oscillation — an  ellipse;  thereby  fully 
demonstrating-  that  those  apparent  motions 
of  the  stars  called  aberration,  which  it  has 
taken  such  an  abstruse  course  of  reasoning- 
to  account  for  by  the  theory  of  Copernicus, 
mig-ht  be  produced  by  the  natural  and  har- 
monious operation  of  universal  and  direct 
revolution,  in  another  system. 

kepeer's  second  law. 

We  have  thus  far  only  been  examining- 
some  of  the  chief  supports  of  the  system  of 
Copernicus.     Let  us    now   briefly  consider 


236  LECTURES. 

the  stability  of  that  fundamental  law  upon 
which  the  whole  structure  rests,  and  \\  ith- 
out  which  it  has  no  foundation. 

Successive  observations  havino-  satisfied 
astronomers  that  the  earth  (on  the  Coperni- 
can  theory)  moves  slowest  in  its  orbit  round 
the  sun  when  farthest  from  the  centre  of 
force,  and  vice  versa,  and  that  order  of  its 
motion  being-  in  opposition  to  the  familiar 
law  of  centrifug-al  force  w^hich  reg-ulates  the 
movement  of  all  revolving-  bodies,  it  became 
necessary  to  either  relinquish  the  theory  of 
Copernicus,  or  discover  some  new  law  for 
its  justification. 

Out  of  this  dilemma  was  evolved  Kepler's 
second  law  of  planetary  motion — "The  ra- 
dius vector  of  each  planet  describes  equal 
areas  in  equal  times:"— which  in  connection 
with  Newton's  law  of  g-ravitation,  would 
impart  perfect  equilibrium  to  a  revolving- 
body  in  any  part  of  its  orbit,  however  near 
to,  or  remote  from  the  centre  of  force. 

Then,  as  the  natural  tendency  of  movnifr 
bodies,  when  all  lateral  forces  are  l^alanced, 
is  to  move  in  a  straig-ht  line,  how  could  the 


LECTURES.  237 

orbital  motion  be  preserved,  or  the  integ-rity 
of  such  a  system  be  maintained  ? 

The  Copernican  school  soon  discovered 
this  discrepancy,  but  having-  become  thor- 
oug-hly  committed  to  the  theory,  they  soon 
set  to  fortifying-  its  weak  point;  and  with  a 
sag-acity  which  challeng-es  our  admiration, 
inserted  what  they  are  pleased  to  call  the 
"Newtonian  constant;"  which  appears  su- 
perficially, to  fill  the  breach;  thoug-h  w^hat 
philosophical  relation  it  bears  to  either  the 
law  of  Kepler  or  of  Newton,  or  to  what  it 
owes  its  existence,  except  that  it  was  needed 
to  bolster  up  the  Copernican  theory,  I  have 
been  unable  to  determine. 

But  even  this  expedient,  though  theoret- 
ically available,  does  not  bear  the  test  of 
practical  demonstration,  as  is  shown  by  the 
experiment  I  will  now  describe: 

Believing  that  this  law  of  Kepler's  was 
unable  to  sustain  itself  by  a  true  mechanical 
demonstration,  I  designed  and  constructed 
an  apparatus  for  plainly  and  fairly  testing 
the  important  question. 

The  two  essential  features  in  a  device  of 


238 


LECTURES. 


this  kind  would  naturally  be,  a  method  of 
g*iving*  a  revolving*  body  that  unequal  motion 
in  its  eccentric  orbit,  which  would  cause  its 
radius  vector  to  describe  "equal  areas  in 
equal  times,  "and  another  of  g-iving"  it  a  ten- 
dency toward  the  centre  of  force,  inversely 
proportionate  to  the  square  of  the  distance 
from  the  centre. 

fe .      ^         ^_^       ,^_ 


Fig-.  1 2. — APPARATUS. 

The  device  with  which  this  interesting- 
experiment  was  made,  is  outlined  in  Fig-.i2, 
and  also  appears  at  F,  in  g-roup  of  appara- 
tus, (pag-e  180).  It  embodies,  in  addition  to 
the  features  named,  a  mode  of  bringing-  into 
use  the  so-called  "Newtonian  constant."  It 
is  so  constructed  as  to  cause  the  revolving- 
car,  or  planet  P,  to  describe  an  orbit,  rela- 
tivelv  to  the  centre  of  force  (if  obedient  to 


LECTURES.  239 

the  law  of  Kepler)  which  would  be  the  exact 
copy  in  miniature  of  the  orbit  of  Mars,  rel- 
atively to  the  sun. 

In  the  fig-ure,  B  represents  a  base,  from 
which  rises  vertically  the  pivot  C  (in  dotted 
outline).  Turning-  freely  on  this  pivot,  is  a 
flang-ed  or  spool-shaped  eccentric  pulley  D, 
to  which  the  horizontal  arm  A  is  rig-idly 
secured  which  carries  the  revolving-  body  P. 
The  arm  A  is  set  in  motion  by  means  of  a 
cord  wound  around  the  eccentric  pulley  D 
and  drawn  from  it  by  winding-  on  the  other 
pulley  H,  which  is  driven  by  some  steady 
power;  the  pulley  D  being-  of  the  proper 
eccentricity  and  ellipticity  to  g-ive  the  radius 
vector,  or  arm  A,  its  proper  motion  for  de- 
scribing equal  areas  in  equal  times  while  it 
is  being-  so  driven. 

The  planet  P  is  in  the  form  of  a  car,  its 
wheels  having-  perfect  anti-friction  bearing-s 
and  concave  rims,  running-  on  a  pair  of  knife 
edg-e  rails  E.  The  car  body  is  fitted  with 
a  shot  receptacle,  by  which  its  weight  may 
be  varied.  It  is  drawn  centre  ward  by  the 
cord  h  winding  on  the  eccentric  pulley  W, 


240  LECTURES. 

to  which  a  rotary  force  is  g-iveii  by  a  coiled 
spring*  S;  the  pulley  W  being-  regfulated  by 
stops  to  turn  just  half  way  round;  one  half 
of  its  circumference  exactly  equaling-  the 
difference  between  perihelion  and  aphelion, 
or  the  least  and  g-reatest  distances  of  the 
planet  P  from  the  centre. 

The  tension  of  the  coiled  spring-  S\  and 
the  eccentricity  of  the  pulley  IV  are  so  ad- 
justed that  a  spring-  weig'hing-  scale  attach- 
ed to  the  car  P,  and  drawn  outward,  will 
reg-ister  a  centreward  attraction,  which  is 
inversely  as  the  square  of  the  distance  from 
the  centre. 

While  the  arm  A  is  strictl}^  level,  yet 
the  rails  £  are  adjustable  for  g-rade,  and 
when  they  are  also  level,  the  car  P,  when 
made  to  revolve  around  the  pivot  C,  is  onl}^ 
atTected  by  the  two  conditions — its  unequal 
propulsion  in  its  orbit,  and  the  centreward 
traction  of  the  cord  /?.  But  by  slig-htly  ele- 
vating- the  outer  end  of  the  rails  E,  we  also 
o-lve  the  car  7i  (^'ravUy  tendency  toward  the 
centre,  which  is  uniform  from  end  to  end  of 
the  rails.    This  supplies  what  is  called   the 


LECTURES.  241 

* 'Newtonian  constant;"  which  is  increased 
or  diminished,  as  the  rails  are  more  or  less 
inclined. 

I  made  many  careful  experiments  with 
this  apparatus,  both  with  the  rails  E  level, 
and  with  them  variously  inclined;  but  they 
all  g"ave  practically  the  same  results — when 
the  orbital  motion  of  P  was  just  sufficient 
to  start  it  from  the  perihelion  stop  />,  in  the 
fastest  portion  of  its  orbit,  it  would  roll  out 
toward  the  aphelion  stop  a,  but  return  to  p 
agfain  on  or  before  reaching-  the  slowest,  or 
the  aphelion  portion  of  its  orbit,  and  remain 
there  till  it  neared  the  fastest,  or  perihelion 
portion  of  its  orbit  again;  and  when  the  or- 
bital motion  was  slightly  increased  to  gain 
better  results,  it  would  roll  out  to  a,  and 
remain  there;  manifesting  a  disposition  to 
leave  the  system,  but  for  the  restraint  of 
the  cord  h,  and  stop  a  ;  thus  clearly  dem- 
onstrating that  Kepler's  second  law  fur- 
nishes another  instance  in  which  theory  and 
practice  do  not  join  hands. 

The  fallacy  of  this  law  may  however  be 
illustrated  ^vithout  resort  to  the  mechanical 


242 


LECTURES, 


experiment  which  we  have  described,  by  the 
use  of  the  following*  diag'ram  : 

A. 


Fig-.  /?. —  KEPIvER's    eaw. 

In  this  fig-ure,  S  represents  the  sun,  or 
centre  of  force,  and  iM  a  planet  at  the  peri- 
helion point  of  its  orbit,  revolving*  around  S 
in  the  direction  of  the  arrows  —  its  radius 
vector  describing*  equal  areas  in  equal  times. 


LECTURES.  243 

As  the  central  attraction  must  necessari- 
ly be  a  little  stronger  than  the  tang^ential 
tendency  of  a  revolving*  body,  to  keep  it  in 
its  orbit,  we  will  (referring-  to  the  diag-ram) 
let  10  represent  the  centrifug-al  force  of  the 
planet  M,  g-ained  from  its  orbital  velocity, 
at  P;  and  11  the  combined  focal  attraction 
due  to  the  "Newtonian  constant"  and  the 
g-eneral  law  of  g-ravitation,  (assuming-  the 
Newtonian  constant  to  be  1.) 

At  a,  with  the  velocity  of  the  planet  and 
the  focal  attraction  diminished,  let  9  repre- 
sent the  centrifug'al,  and  9  plus  1, — or  10, 
the  centripetal  force  affecting-  it;  at  b,  let 
8  and  9  represent  the  two  forces;  at  c\  7  : 8, 
and  at  A,  6:7. 

The  planet  has,  at  A,  reached  its  lowest 
velocity,  and  from  this  point  on  toward  P 
ag-ain  (according-  to  Kepler)  its  orbital  mo- 
tion, and  therefore  the  centrifug-al  force  will 
g-radually  increase,  and  the  centripetal  force 
also  reassert  itself. 

Prom  P  io  A,  the  influence  of  the  two 
opposite  forces  on  the  planet  was  steadily 
diminishing-;  but  throuofh  the  assistance  of 


244  LECTURES. 

the  Newtonian  constant,  that  of  the  centrip- 
etal force  weakened  less  than  the  other — as 
7  : 6  exceeds  11  :  10;  yet  with  this  advantag'e 
it  has  only  in  part  been  able  to  restrain  the 
planet  from  flying"  off  in  a  tangent,  since  its 
radius  vector  has  steadily  leng-thened. 

But  from  A  to  P  ag*ain,  the  conditions 
are  reversed  ;  the  centrifug*al  force  steadily 
increasing*,  while  the  centripetal  force  will 
increase  in  a  smaller  ratio  (falling-  from  7  : 6 
at  A,  to  11  :  10  at  P.)  How  then  could  the 
latter,  with  its  power,  relatively  to  the  cen- 
trifug-al  force,  Z'jcakeiiing-^  draw  the  planet 
back  to  perihelion,  or  shorten  its  radius  vec- 
tor, when  it  was  unable  to  restrain  the  same 
from  Icug-tlicniiig-,  on  its  way  from  P  to  A, 
where  the  conditions  were  reversed,  wholly 
to  its  advantag-e? 

The  truth  of  the  matter  is,  that  at  P  the 
centripetal  force  is  not  sufficiently  strong-, 
relatively  to  the  centrifug-al,  to  keep  the  ra- 
dius vector  of  the  planet  from  leng-thening-; 
but  by  the  aid  of  the  Newtonian  constant 
it  becomes  so  at  ^,  from  which  point,  if  the 
orbital  motion  continue  the  same  as  at  A  — 


LECTURES.  245 

no  greater,  no  less — the  planet  will  continue 
in  a  circle,  without  any  chang-e  in  its  radius 
vector;  but  if  the  orbital  motion  be  increas- 
ed at  A,  then  the  centrif ug-al  force  will  also 
increase,  and  carry  the  planet  still  farther 
from  the  centre;  since  the  focal  attraction 
on  the  planet  can  only  be  increased — by  first 
bring'iug'  it  nearer  to,  the  eentre  of  foree. 

A   NEW   SYSTEM   OUTLINED. 

Though  I  have  been  freely  criticising-  our 
present  accepted  astronomical  system,  yet 
it  is  neither  my  purpose  nor  desire  to  advo- 
cate a  new  one;  as  I  am  far  from  being-  fully 
assured  that  it  is  the  Divine  pleasure  to  re- 
veal to  our  finite  minds,  except  in  a  g-eneral 
way,  the  g-reat  plan  of  the  Universe.  But 
lest  it  should  be  said  of  me  —  He  seeks  only 
to  demolish  and  destroy  where  he  could  not 
plan  to  build, — I  will  sug-g-est  the  outline  of 
a  plan  by  which  the  apparent  movements  of 
the  heavenly  bodies  mig-ht  all  be  produced, 
not  only  in  harmony  with  natural  laws,  but 
also  with  the  revealed  Word  of  God. 

In  such  a  plan,  I  would  have  the  earth 


246 


LECTURES. 


practically  at  the  centre,  as  indicated  by  E 
in  Fi§^.  14,  rotating-  on  its  axis  (from  w  to  e) 
in  25  hours  49  min.  10  sec  ;  the  moon  M  re- 
volving* around  the  earth  in  the  opposite  di- 
rection to  the  earth's  rotation,  (or  from  E  to 
Wj  in  her  sidereal  period  of  27.32  days  ;    the 


Fig-.  14. — A   NEW   SYSTEM. 

sun  S  going-  around  the  earth  in  the  same 
direction  as  the  moon,  in  14.19  days;  moving- 


LECTURES.  247 

spirally  from  solstice  to  solstice  and  return, 
with  its  circuits  a  little  broader  over  the 
northern,  than  they  are  over  the  southern 
hemisphere,  for  aphelion  and  perihelion,  as 
shown  in  Fig-.  8,  page  219. 

I  would  have  Mercury  ;;/,  and  Venus  V, 
revolve  round  the  sun,  as  shown,  and  travel 
with  it,  as  satellites  of  that  body,  in  its  cir- 
cuits round  the  earth;  the  superior  planets, 
as  is  shown  by  their  orbits,  moving'  slowly 
(from  E  to  w)  around  the  sun  as  a  secondary 
centre  in  their  synodical  periods,  while  trav- 
eling" round  the  earth  with  the  sun,  and  like 
that  body,  moving-  spirally  from  north  to 
south  and  return,  in  their  sidereal  periods ; 
the  stars  revolving-  around  the  whole  in  or- 
bits a  little  eccentric  to  the  earth-centre,  in 
the  same  direction  as  the  sun,  but  enoug-h 
faster  to  g-ain  one  revolution  on  the  sun  in  a 
year;  which  would  be  a  complete  revolution 
in  13.66  days. 

This  would  produce  the  apparent  move- 
ments of  the  celestial  bodies  in  their  proper 
order  and  periods,  and  account  for  aberra- 
tion, equation  of  time,  and   that  apparent 


248  LECTURES. 

equatorial  acceleration  of  the  sun,  in  the 
manner  already  explained;  but  how  wotild 
I  reconcile  such  a  plan  with  the  established 
law  of  g'ravitation? 

I  would  reply — Not  by  seeking"  to  change 
that  law,  so  far  as  it  pertains  to  things  ter- 
restrial, (of  which  portion  only  we  are  able 
to  take  practical  account)  but  by  amplifying 
and  extending  the  demonstrable  portion  of 
that  law,  to  embrace  the  universe. 

UNIVERSAL    GRAVITATION. 

Respecting  the  application  of  this  law  of 
gravity  to  our  habitable  globe,  we  have  been 
taught  that  those  portions  of  the  earth  the 
nearest  to  its  centre,  are  the  least  attracted 
centreward,  while  the  attraction  increases 
directly  ^vith  the  distance  from  the  centre, 
being  therefore  theoretically  g'reatest  at  the 
earth's  svirface. 

Now,  is  this  the  result  of  Cohesion,  or  is 
the  law  of  gravity,  in  this  case,  modified  by 
that  force?  Presumably  not,  since  we  are 
taught  that  cohesion  acts  only  at  insensible 
distances.     If  then,  it  is  the  result  of  gravi- 


LECTURES.  249 

tation,  pure  and  simple,  would  not  the  order 
of  attraction  be  the  same,  if  the  earth  were 
divided  into  millions  of  small  bodies  —  sepa- 
rated b}^  space,  but  collectively  retaining- 
the  g-lobular  form?  And  may  not  the  mill- 
ions of  visible  bodies,  tog-ether  with  that 
boundless  infinity  of  invisible  ones  which 
constitute  our  universe, —  thoug-h  separated 
by  space,  yet  united  by  the  strong  bonds  of 
their  mutual  attractions  — be  drawn  in  the 
same  order  toward  a  common  centre,  yet 
retained  in  their  places  by  the  centrifug-al 
force  evolved  by  their  orbital  velocities? — 
The  moon  (nearest  the  centre  of  the  system) 
revolving-  slowest,  being-  the  least  attracted; 
while  velocity  and  attraction  increase  stead- 
ily as  they  move  out  from  the  centre, —  the 
stars  revolving-  most  rapidly,  being-  most 
attracted. 

This  would  be  in  perfect  harmony  with 
that  natural,  familiar,  and  easily  demonstra- 
ted law  of  centrifug-al  force,  that  the  orbit 
of  a  revolving-  body  is  expanded  bv  increas- 
ing- its  velocity,  and  contracted  by  decreas- 
ing- it.     It  is  also  evident  that  the  farther  a 


250  LECTURES. 

body  g-yrated  from  the  centre,  the  more  it 
would  be  restrained  from  leaving"  such  a 
system,  and  the  nearer  one  drew  to  the  cen- 
tre, the  less  it  would  be  attracted  toward  it; 
both  of  these  conditions  operating*  against  a 
chang'e  in  the  original  distribution  of  bodies 
throughout  the  universe,  while  the  failure 
of  Kepler's  second  law  to  sustain  itself  in  a 
fair  and  carefully  conducted  physical  test, 
demonstrates  that  directly  opposite  and  dis- 
org*anizing  conditions  exist  in  the  theory  of 
Copernicus. 

But  it  may  be  arg'ued  that  a  planet  like 
Jupiter  or  Saturn,  for  example,  with  its  sat- 
ellites revolving'  around  it,  in  direction  from 
w  to  E,  those  with  largest  orbits  revolving* 
slowest,  is  a  visible  presentation  and  justi- 
fication of  that  theory,  and  discloses  God's 
plan  of  operating  world  systems. 

To  such  an  argument  I  would  reph%  that 
the  satellites  of  a  planet,  in  the  Copernican 
plan,  or  in  the  one  I  have  suggested,  have 
two  motions— their  lesser,  or  secondary  rev- 
olution round  the  planet,  and  their  g-reater, 
or  primary  revolution  ivith  the  planet  round 


LECTURES.  251 

the  centre  of  the  S3^stem.  Now,  in  the  plan 
outlined  in  Fig:  14,  those  planets  revolve 
absolutely  round  the  earth,  and  also  around 
the  sun,  from  E  to  w ;  and  their  satellites, 
in  revolving-  round  them  from  w  to  E,  would 
be  affected  by  that  more  rapid  primary  mo- 
tion round  the  earth,  as  follows  : 

Those  satellites  revolving-  farthest  from 
their  planets,  or  having-  the  larg-est  orbits, 
would,  in  keeping-  with  my  theory,  have  the 
slowest  primary  motion  around  the  earth, 
when  nearest  to  earth,  and  the  most  rapid 
when  in  the  opposite,  or  most  distant  part 
of  their  secondary  orbits  around  the  planet; 
and  the  secondary  motion  of  the  satellite  — 
from  w  to  E  around  the  planet  —  would  be 
in  the  same  direction  as  the  primary  motion 
when  it  is  nearest  to  earth  and  moving-  the 
slowest  around  it,  which  tends  to  retard  its 
secondary  progress,  and  therefore  prolong* 
its  period;  and  this  secondary  motion  would 
ag-ain  be  retarded  on  the  opposite,  or  farther 
side  of  the  planet,  as  it  would  there  be  coun- 
teracted by  the  increased  primary  motion, 
which  it  would  then  be  moving-  ag-ainst;  this 


252  LECTURES. 

would  still  further  prolong-  its  period.  It  is 
evident  that  on  this  principle,  the  nearer  a 
satellite  revolved  to  its  planet  the  less  those 
retardations  would  be,  and  in  consequence, 
the  shorter  its  period. 

This  would  account  for  the  perplexing'ly 
short  period  of  Phobos, — inner  satellite  of 
Mars;  and  mig-ht  also  throw  some  lig-ht  on 
the  eccentric  behavior  of  the  satellites  of 
Uranus  and  Neptune. 

But  wherein  exists  the  chief  difference 
between  the  two  theories  which  promise  the 
same  apparent  results?  Manifestly  in  this: 
Instead  of  esteemino-  our  universe  as  being- 
at  rest,  except  as  a  few  bodies  of  the  Solar 
system  move  in  their  orbits,  and  the  stars, 
by  their  scarcely  perceptible  so-called  prop- 
er motions,  move  chaotically,  "like  bees  in  a 
swarm, "as  the  Copernican  text-books  ex- 
press it,  I  would  ascribe  to  it,  as  a  universal 
zvholc,  the  action  of  rotation  —  as  in  action 
only  there  is  life — the  stars  in  their  respect- 
ive orbits  differing*  sufficiently  in  motion  to 
produce  their  apparent  "proper  motions," 
while  the  lesser  velocities  of  sun,  moon,  and 


LECTURES.  253 

planets,  give  those  bodies  the  appearance  of 
traveling*  eastward  among*  the  stars. 

The  plan  I  have  sug^g-ested  would  also 
correct  that  g-laring*  inconsistency  of  the  Co- 
pernican  theory  which  would  g-ive  to  those 
planets  observed  to  have  the  slowest  rota- 
tion, the  most  rapid  motion  in  their  orbits  : 
For  example,  Mars  is  observed  to  take  24 
hours  37  minutes,  in  turning-  on  its  axis,  but 
is  gfiven  an  orbital  velocity  of  about  15  miles 
per  second;  while  Jupiter  rotates  in  a  little 
more  than  one  third  of  that  time,  ( 9  hours 
55  minutes )  but  is  g-iven  an  orbital  motion 
of  less  than  8  miles  per  second.  This  g-reat- 
er  rotary  motion  would  however  harmonize 
perfectly  with  the  increased  orbital  velocity 
of  bodies  farther  from  the  universal  centre, 
in  the  plan  outlined. 

Of  most  importance  however,  is  the  con- 
sideration that  such  a  plan,  by  puncturing* 
the  root,  might  tend  to  check  the  growth  of 
that  false  sentiment  which  would  arrogfate 
to  modern  man  the  superior  wisdom,  ability 
and  privelege  of  supplanting  the  records  of 
Divine  revelation  with  the  records  of  human 


254  LECTURES. 

achievement,  and  set  at  naug'lit  the  inspired 
words  of  those  devout  men  who  in  the  purity 
and  simplicity  of  an  exalted  faith—  throug'h 
Nature's  works,  communed  with  Nature's 
God  ;  nor  deemed  it  necessary  to  attempt 
the  elaboration  of  an  astronomical  system 
whose  w^ell  defined  outlines  no  sacrilegious 
hand  mig-ht  e'er  disturb. 

But  as  I  have  said,  I  have  no  intention  of 
advocating  a  different  system,  either  new  or 
old;  for  in  the  light  of  the  discoveries  I  have 
made,  and  deductions  I  have  drawn — and  by 
the  memory  of  an  early  experience,  when  a 
Voice  Beatific  spake  Peace!  from  out  the 
shadows,  I  have  been  led  up  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  it  is  unsafe  to  advocate  any  theory, 
or  formulate  any  system  of  human  knowl- 
edge which  is  not  found,  after  the  fullest 
and  fairest  investigation,  to  be  in  perfect 
harmony  with  both  God's  Word  and  works; 
and  while  memory  lives,  and  reason  retains 
its  throne,  the  recollection  of  that  early  ex- 
perience when  the  mind's  eye  was  quickened 
into  gazing*  retrospectively  through  God's 
Word,  as  along*  a  panorama,  from  Patmos 


LECTURES.  255 

even  back  to  Chaos,  to  see  all  alleg"ed  incon- 
sistencies vanish,  all  apparent  differences 
reconciled,  and  the  Star  of  Truth  shining- 
resplendent  over  all, — that  recollection  will 
prompt  me  to  maintain  that  where  Science 
and  the  Bible  clash,  there  Science  must  give 
w^ay;  and  thoug^h  Man,  with  his  God-given 
powers  has  achieved  wonders,  and  is  still 
prog-ressing*,  yet  we  should  ever  remember 
that,  as  in  the  material  world  the  stream 
cannot  rise  above  its  source,  so  in  the  g-rand- 
er  realm  of  thoug*ht,  human  knowledg'e  can- 
not, and  must  not  assume  to  rise  above  the 
Source  of  all  knowledge. 

And  while  to  man  much  to  know^  is  g^iven, 
yet  as  God's  thoug^hts  are  not  our  thoug^hts, 

neither  our  w^ays  his  ways; for  as  the 

heavens  are  hig-her  than  the  earth,  so  God's 
ways  being-  hig-her  than  our  ways,  and  his 
thoug-hts  than  our  thoug-hts,  there  must  of 
necessity  be  some  knowledg-e  which  is  pecul- 
iarly and  exclusively  his;  and  to  which  we 
may  not  hope  to  attain,  till  that  time  when 
standing-  in  the  lig-ht  of  his  presence,  we 
shall  be  more  like  him,  for  we  shall  see  him 


256  LECTURES. 

as  he  is.  And  I  feel  that  I  can  offer  no  more 
"fitting*  conclusion  to  this  discourse  than  that 
impressive  stanza  from  Derzhaven's  Ode  to 
the  Deity,  which  thus  beautifully  embodies 
this  sentiment : 

"/;/  its  sublime  research^  Philosophy 
May  nicasure  out  the  ocean  deep,  may  count 
The  sands,  or  solar  rays;  but  God,  for  thee 
There  is  no  zueig'ht  nor  measure!    none 

can  mount 
Up  to  Thy  mysteries!  Reason' s  brig-htest 

spark, 
Tho'  kindled  by  Thy  lig'ht,  zvonld  vainly  try 
To  trace  Thy  counsels,  infinite  and  dark; 
And  thought  is  lost  ere  it  can  soar  so  high. 
Even  like  past  moments  in  Eternity !''' 


CHAPTER   IX. 

While  preparing-  the  foreg-oina-  lectures, 
the  impression  gained  with  me  that  a  work 
in  defense  of  the  Bible  would  be  imperfect 
and  unfinished,  which  did  not  also  make  a 
practical  application  of  its  teaching's  to  the 
needs  of  mankind;  and  when  I  went  forth  to 
g-ive  the  results  of  my  labors  to  the  world 
from  the  lecture  platform,  I  took  with  me 
the  following-  discourse,  hoping-  my  scientific 
lectures  might  receive  that  financial  support 
which  would  enable  me  to  present  it  from 
the  same  platform,  without  fee  or  collection, 
or  desire  for  any  personal  advantag-e. 

I  hoped  in  this  way  to  reach  many  people 
who  would  come  to  a  public  hall,  but  could 
not  be  induced  to  enter  either  a  fashionable 
church,  or  a  charity  chapel.  The  results  of 
my  effort  are  already  known  to  the  reader. 
— The  lecture  follows  : — 


258  LECTURES. 


{Free  Leeture.) 
How  THE  Poor  may  become  Rich. 

In  these  days  of  cultured  skepticism  when 
Infidelity  proclaims  its  tenets  in  our  public 
halls,  and  is  applauded  to  the  echo  for  its 
bold  attacks  on  our  Christian  faith,  it  be- 
hooves us  who  are  followers  of  the  Master, 
each  to  do  what  he  or  she  can,  to  stem  that 
tidal  wave  whose  dark  wake  is  strewn  with 
physical,  mental,  moral  and  spiritual  suicide 
and  death. 

It  may  however  appear  highly  presumpt- 
uous for  a  plain  working-man  to  announce  a 
lecture  in  this  wealthy  and  prosperous  city, 
whose  object  is  to  benefit  the  poor;  but  I 
am  credibly  advised  that  there  is  one  poor 
man  like  myself  residing*  somewhere  in  this 
town,  and  I  appear  in  the  interest  of  that 
man, — I  have  g-iven  him  a  special  invitation 
to  be  present,  and  I  think  he  is  with  us  on 
this  occasion. 

I  trust  therefore  you  will  pardon  me  if  I 
keep  my  promise  with  him,  by  pointing-  out 


LECTURES.  259 

the  way  by  which  he  may  also  become  rich. 
I  feel  the  more  constrained  to  pursue  this 
course,  because  in  the  house  of  the  Master  I 
am  so  poorly  serving-,  there  is  more  joy  over 
one  poor  man  who  becomes  rich,  than  there 
is  over  ninety  and  nine  other  men,  who  are 
already  rich  enoug^h. 

While  I  am  indicating-  the  way  by  which 
he  may  g-ain  a  clear  title  and  a  lasting-  ten- 
ure of  a  beautiful  mansion  in  a  deliofhtful 
country,  I  shall  also  be  answering-,  definite- 
ly and  unequivocally,  that  question  of  vital 
import  which  Col.  Robt.  Ing-ersoU  has  been 
asking-  all  up  and  down  the  land,  for  two 
hundred  dollars,  and  upward,  a  nig-ht;  while 
his  vaofue  and  futile  efforts  at  answering-  the 
same  himself,  have  received  that  g-enerous 
applause  which  usually  crowds  a  triumph- 
ant success. 

[Note.] — reference  is  made  to  Ing-ersoll's 
lecture,  "What  must  we  do  to  be  saved.  "He 
was  living-  then,  and  I  expected  to  meet  him, 
and  answer  his  question. — 

As  this  answer  concerns  us  all,  I  hope  to 
retain  your  attention  while  I  unfold  to  my 


260  LECTURES. 

fellow  working-man  the  grandeur  of  the  in- 
heritance which  may  be  his;  and  that  its 
beauty  and  desirableness  may  be  enhanced 
by  contrast,  let  us  first,  my  friend,  briefly 
survey  your  past  life,  present  condition,  and 
your  present  hope  of  the  future  : 

You  started  out  in  life's  fair  morning, 
with  the  hope  and  health  and  strength  of 
youth.  How  beautiful  the  world  looked,  and 
how  easy  seemed  the  battle  of  life.  Kind 
friends  greeted  you  everywhere;  encourag- 
ing- words  and  smiles  cheered  your  walk  by 
day,  and  sweet  sleep  with  pleasant  dreams, 
renewed  your  strength  by  night. 

How  your  young-  heart  beat  with  lofty 
aspirations— -you  would  mount  the  ladder  of 
Fame,  and  would  stand  up  in  noble  defence 
of  the  rig'hts  of  your  people  and  yonr  coun- 
try; or  you  would  g'ather  liberally  of  the 
wealth  which  lay  at  your  feet,  and  bestow 
it  on  the  less  fortunate  with  that  bounteous 
hand  which  w^ould  cause  men  to  bless  your 
life,  and  cherish  your  memory.  Your  strong 
right  hand,  unclouded  brain,  and  evenly  pul- 
sating heart  —  appeared  to  you,  to  hold  the 


LECTURES.  261 

key  to  your  destiny,  and  if  you  failed  —  the 
fault  would  be  your  own. 

Time  sped,  the  conflict  deepened.  Life's 
poetry  was  merg-ing*  into  prose  —  its  ideal- 
ism into  stern  reality.  With  clenched  hand 
and  flashing-  eye  and  girded  purpose,  j^ou 
met  the  condition,  and  strug-gled  nobly  for 
the  mastery.  The  tide  of  fortune  ebbed  and 
flo^\ed,  while  time  moved  on  ^^  ith  relent- 
less tread. 

At  leng'th  misfortune  came  —  a  trusted 
friend  proved  false,  a  business  enterprise 
unsound;  —  anxious  days,  sleepless  nig^hts, 
sickness  followed  ;  and  when  you  rose  from 
that  couch  of  pain,  the  world  for  you  had 
lost  much  of  its  freshness,  and  your  heart 
much  of  its  hopefulness;  but  the  thought  of 
loved  ones  dependent  on  you  called  you  ag'ain 
to  the  post  of  duty,  and  with  strength  im- 
paired, and  hopes  modified  by  defeat,  you 
entered  once  more  life's  great  struggle. 

Brighter  days  came,  and  hope  revived  : 
but  alas!  how  fleeting.  One  morn  a  cheery 
voice  which  had  made  music  in  ^^our  home, 
was  stifled  by  throes  of  pain.    A  few  days 


262  LECTURES. 

of  sulTerinof  —  of  mortal  a^^ony,  and  the  pure 
spirit  was  wafted  upward,  w  liile  the  beau- 
tiful form  w^as  laid  from  your  sio-ht,  beneath 
the  cold  clods  of  the  valley,  and  your  hand 
was  again  unnerved  for  the  conflict. 

Thus  on  and  on,  life's  tide  has  ebbed  and 
flowed, — each  successive  circle  narrowing  a 
little,  till  you  have  been  brought  down  to 
the  hard  lot  of  unremitting  toil  for  your  dai- 
ly bread;  hopino-  for  nothing  now%  but  that 
the  work  may  hold  out,  and  the  frugal  pay 
continue,  that  you  may  keep  the  hungry 
wolf  from  the  door. 

Meanwhile  time  goes  on.  The  form  is 
less  erect,  the  step  shorter,  the  hand  less 
steady;  w^hile  the  eye  is  growing  dim,  and 
tell-tale  locks  of  silver  lead  your  thrifty  em- 
ployer to  ponder  if  your  place  could  not  soon 
be  better  filled  by  younger  help. 

And  w^hat  then?  A  place  by  your  chil- 
dren's fireside?  Perhaps  a  nook  in  the  home 
for  the  stranger.  A  few  months  or  years  of 
w^eary  waiting, — then  a  simple  burial  serv- 
ice, a  narrow^  g*rave, — and  all  that  is  mortal 
of  your  once  happy  self,  will  be  hid  from 


LECTURES.  263 

earth,  forever !      And  is  this  the  end?     Is 
this  the  end? 

O  no!  O  no!  Look  up!  h)ok  up!  "Behold 
I  bring"  you  g^ood  tidings  of  g-reat  joy,  which 
shall  be  to  all  people!  For  unto  you  is  born 
ill  the  city  of  David,  a  Savior,  who  is  Christ 
the  Ivord  !"  And  what  messag-e  bring-s  this 
Savior  to  you  ? 

"Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirii",  for  theirs 
is  the  King-dom  of  Heaven. 

"Blessed  are  they  that  mourn,  for  they 
shall  be  comforted. 

"Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they 
shall  see  God. 

"In  my  Father's  house  are  many  man- 
sions: if  it  w^ere  not  so  I  would  have  told 
you.    I  g-o  to  prepare  a  place  for  you." 

But  methinks  I  hear  this  toiler  say.  What 
is  all  this  to  me?  Have  I  not  lived  to  see 
Vice  prosper,  and  Virtue  g-o  threadbare — to 
see  the  wicked  and  unscrupulous  rolling-  in 
wealth  and  luxury  and  ease,  while  the  hon- 
est and  deserving"  and  the  God-fearing*  were 
^-round  beneath  the  iron  heel  of  Povertv? 


264  LECTURES. 

This  has  led  me  to  doubt  God's  direct 
interference  in  the  affairs  of  men,  and  to  at- 
tribute all  results  to  that  unrelenting-  law 
whose  operations  culminate  in  the  survival, 
not  exactly  of  the  fittest,  but  of  the  strong- 
est and  most  crafty.     . 

Believing"  that  as  the  bonds  of  the  toiling" 
millions  are  tig^htening-,  this  sentiment  is 
also  g-rowing",  you  will  pardon  me  if  I  beg'in 
at  the  root  of  this  subject : 

In  the  first  place,  reason  and  observation 
and  experience,  all  teach  us  that  nothing" 
exists  or  takes  place  without  a  cause;  and 
the  existence  of  a  Great  First  Cause,  I  think 
no  sensible  person  will  attempt  to  deny:  and 
whether,  in  the  lang'uage  of  the  freethinker, 
we  choose  to  call  that  Cause  —  Nature,  or 
whether,  in  the  languag-e  of  the  Scriptures, 
we  say — God  !  does  not  in  the  least  affect 
his  personality;  but  what  most  directly  con- 
cerns f(s  is,  What  relation  exists  between 
us  and  that  Great  Cause,  and  how  are  we 
affected  by  such  relation? 

In  the  vegfetable  and  in  the  animal  king"- 
doms,  ever3^thing"  docs  indeed  appear  to  be 


LECTURES.  265 

g-overned  by  some  general  and  immutable 
law.  The  tender  shoot  spring's  from  the 
seed,  takes  root,  develops  into  the  tree,  puts 
forth  its  leaves,  flowers  and  fruit;  and  the 
eag'le  builds  his  nest,  and  the  wild  beast  his 
lair,  the  same  as  centuries  on  centuries  ag*o; 
no  prog^ress,  no  improvement. 

But  with  man  all  this  is  chang-ed.  Born 
into  the  world  the  most  helpless  of  all  creat- 
ures, he  matures  into  a  being-  endowed  with 
those  hig-her  attributes  of  inventive  and  cre- 
ative power  which  so  emphatically  distin- 
g-uish  him  from  all  else  created;  and  which 
under  favoring*  conditions  rise  to  a  g-randeur 
of  achievement,  bearing-  unmistakably  the 
imprint  of  divine  preferment. 

Is  it  strang-e  then,  that  this  distinctive 
and  superior  being-  should  have  been  made 
the  recipient  of  God's  special  consideration 
and  care?  But  the  question  may  be  raised. 
Why  then  did  he  leave  man  free  to  fall  into 
temptation  and  sin,  whereby  came  death, 
and  all  our  woes  ?  I  w^ill  try  to  answer  that 
anticipated  question  by  the  use  of  a  homely, 
thoug-h  I  think,  pertinent  illustration  : 


266  LECTURES. 

We  will  suppose  you  have  a  beautiful 
horse  —  far  more  beautiful  and  intellio-ent 
than  any  you  have  ever  before  possessed  or 
cared  for;  so  intellig-ent,  in  fact,  that  you 
decide  on  g-iving-  him  a  few  extra  points  in 
horse  culture.  You  attach  a  long-  cord  to 
his  bridle  and  start  him  toward  the  street, 
saying,  Now  sir!  when  I  call  Halt!  you  are 
to  stop.  And  when  I  say,  Return!  then  you 
must  turn,  and  come  back  to  me. 

When  the  horse  reaches  the  street,  you 
draw  firmly  on  the  cord,  call  Halt!—  and  the 
horse  stops,  because  he  does  not  feel  at  lib- 
erty to  do  any  other  way.  You  say.  Return! 
and  beg^in  to  reel  in  the  cord  hand  over  hand, 
and  he  comes  back  to  you,  for  the  same  rea- 
son. You  repeat  the  lesson  several  times  — 
always  with  the  same  result,  of  course. 

Well  now,  you  are  not  very  mvich  elated 
over  that  animal's  behavior, —  he  has  only 
done  for  3^ou  what  you  compelled  him  to  do; 
but  finally  you  strip  off  the  bridle,  and  send 
him  out  free.  As  he  ag*ain  nears  the  street, 
you  call,  Halt!  and  (anxious  moment)  the 
horse  stof)s!    You  say.  Return!    and  pirou- 


LECTURES.  267 

etting-  o-racefully,  he  hastens  back  to  you. 
O,  how  the  o-lad  smiles  illumine  your  coun- 
tenance, and  how  heartily  you  caress  that 
noble  animal,  who  has  honored  you  by  his 
obedience,  though  free  to  transg-ress. 

The  inspired  poet,  Milton,  expresses  this 
sentiment  in  loftier  phrase  in  his  "Paradise 
Lost,"  where  he  assumes  God  to  say: 

"I  made  him  (man)  just  and  rio-ht. 
Sufficient  to  have  stood,  thoug-h  free  to  fall. 
Such  I  created  all  the  ethereal  Powers 
And  Spirits,  both  them  who  stood,  and 

them  who  failed; 
Freely  they  stood  who  stood,  or  freely  fell. 
Not  free,  what  proof  could  they  have  g-iven 
Of  true  alleg-iance,  constant  faith,  or  love. 
Where  only  that  they  needs  must  do  appear- 
Not  what  they  would?    What  praise       [ed, 

could  they  receive. 
What  pleasure  I,  from  such  obedience  paid; 
When  will  and  reason  (reason  also  is  choice) 
Useless  and  vain,  of  freedom  both  despoiled, 
Made  passive  both,  had  served  necessity. 
Not  Mcf'  Miltou. 


268  LECTURES. 

Thus  the  poet  very  reasonably  raises  the 
question,  What  satisfaction,  what  recom- 
pense \\ould  it  have  been  to  God,  to  endow 
man  with  these  hi^-her  attributes,  and  then 
place  him  in  leadino--string's,  by  \\  hich  he 
would  be  compelled  to  serve  Him;  instead 
of  leaving*  him  free,  that  he  might  honor  and 
g'lorify  God,  by  serving*  Him  of  his  own  vo- 
lition ?  "For  verily  I  say  unto  you,  that  joy 
shall  be  in  Heaven  over  one  sinner  that  re- 
penteth,  (or  comes  back  to  God  of  his  own 
free  will, )  more  than  over  ninety  and  nine 
just  persons  who  need  no  repentance." 

With  this  brief  arg'ument  in  support  of 
the  doctrine  of  man's  free  moral  ag-ency  and 
consequent  fall,  \\  e  \a  ill  now  proceed  to  con- 
sider the  reasonable  requirements  and  the 
efficacy  of  the  Gospel  plan  of  redemption: 

The  Scriptures  inform  us  that  as  men 
multiplied  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  throug-h 
an  evil  influence  they  became  disobedient  to 
the  extent  that  God  repented  of  ever  having* 
created  man,  and  that  he  determined  to  cut 
off  the  whole  human  race;  but  finding-  one 
rig-hteous  family,  he  mercifully  spared  them 


LECTURES.  269 

from  the  angry  Flood,  and  when  the  waters 
abated,  Noah  and  his  family  wxnt  out  from 
the  Ark,  to  re-establish  man's  dominion  on 
the  earth. 

It  would  seem  that  the  descendants  of 
such  g-oodly  stock,  which  had  been  so  mirac- 
ulously saved  from  the  g-eneral  ruin,  ought 
to  have  been  able  to  w^alk  in  the  paths  of 
rectitude  and  holiness;  but  it  appears  how^- 
ever,  that  as  their  numbers  ag-ain  increased, 
many  w^andered  from  their  alleg-iance  and 
became  as  heathen  and  outcast  to  the  Lord, 
while  the  descendants  of  faithful  Abraham 
became  his  chosen  people. 

Of  the  w^andering-s  of  this  chosen  race 
and  God's  dealing's  with  them,  it  is  not  our 
purpose  now  to  speak,  more  than  to  remind 
you  that  throug-hout  the  whole  record  there 
runs  a  sentiment  indicating-  that  God  had 
not  forg-otten  the  remnant  of  mankind,  and 
that  he  would  in  his  own  gfood  time  declare 
a  g'eneral  amnesty  to  all  the  human  race,  as 
is  evinced  by  the  frequent  references  which 
his  prophets  make  to  a  Messiah,  who  when 
He  came,  would  deliver  those  in  bondag-e. 


270  LECTURES. 

And  how  nearly  are  the  ways  of  our  wis- 
est and  best  men  fashioned  after  this  course. 
Many  will  recollect  that  at  the  close  of  our 
Civil  War  (1861 — 65)  only  a  portion  of  those 
who  had  borne  arms  ag-ainst  the  Governm't 
were  pardoned,  while  the  instigators,  lead- 
ers, and  worst  offenders  were  denied  all  the 
rio'hts  of  citizenship. 

But  as  time  passed,  and  passions  cooled, 
and  wounds  healed,  our  statesmen  relented, 
and  it  was  resolved  to  send  out  a  g*eneral 
amnesty  proclamation;  that  whoever  would 
mi^ht  come  and  take  the  oath  of  alleg-iance 
and  receive  pardon. 

And  now,  in  what  form  and  after  what 
manner  came  the  l)earer  of  that  other  and 
earlier  proclamation  from  On  Hig-h?  Not 
as  the  Jews  expected  He  would  come — with 
pomp  and  power;  which  have  everywhere 
and  in  all  ag-es  been  the  accompaniments  of 
wrong-  and  oppression;  but  he  came  just  as 
God's  prophets  foretold,  centuries  before, 
that  he  would  come,—  as  a  man  of  sorrows, 
and  acquainted  with  g-rief;  as  the  Lamb  of 
God  to  be  offered  for  our  transg'ressions;  as 


LECTURES.  271 

the  meek  and  lowly  Jesus,— with  passions 
human  enoug-h  and  sensibilities  keen  enough 
and  sympathies  deep  enoug'h, —  and  power 
great  enough,  to  understand  and  pity  and 
forgive  all  our  sins  —  if  we  wish  to  be,  and 
will  seek  to  be  forgiven. 

But  what  are  the  proofs  of  his  divinity? 
When  he  came  up  from  his  baptism  in  the 
River  Jordan,  Behold!  the  heavens  parted, 
and  the  Spirit  of  God  was  seen  descending 
upon  him  like  a  dove;  and  Lo!  a  voice  from 
Heaven  was  heard  saying,  "This  is  my  be- 
loved Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased!" 

At  his  command  the  lame  walk,  the  blind 
receive  their  sight,  the  lepers  are  healed,  the 
dead  arc  raised!  He  calms  the  wild  waves, 
and  walks  upon  the  sea:  later  he  bursts  the 
bars  of  the  tomb,  and  is  seen  by  competent 
witnesses  ascending-  bodily  up  to  Heaven. 
And  we  w^ho  have  been  touched  by  his  heal- 
ing power — we  knovj  that  he  was  Messiah 
who  was  to  come.  And  this  was  his  proc- 
lamation to  mankind  : 

"For  God  so  loved  the  world  that  he  gave 
his  only  beo-otten  Son,  that  whosoever  be- 


272  LECTURES. 

lieveth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but  have 
everlasting-  life."     St,  John,  j  :  i6. 

"I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life:  he 
that  believeth  in  me,  though  he  were  dead, 
yet  shall  he  live;  and  whosoever  livcth  and 
believeth  in  me,  shall  never  die.''  John,  ii. 

"I  am  the  way  and  the  truth  and  the 
life:  no  man  cometh  unto  the  Father,  but 
by  me."  St.  John,  14  :  6. 

Since  on  the  promises  contained  in  this 
message  hang-s  our  only  hope  of  Heaven,  let 
us  g-ive  it  a  calm  and  dispassionate  consid- 
eration, to  see  if  that  hope  is  well  founded  : 

First,  the  proclamation  is  not  made  to 
any  particular  race,  creed,  or  class;  but  to 
all  mankind:  for  it  distinctly,  emphatically, 
and  repeatedly  uses  the  word.  Whosoever; 
which  in  our  lang'uag-e  means  anybody.  But 
why  does  it  not  say  everybody  f  Because  my 
friend,  there  is  one  condition  embodied  in  it; 
— not  the  taking'  of  an  oath  of  alleg*iance,  as 
in  man's  proclamation,  but  simple  belief  in 
the  Savior —  "Whosoever  believeth  in  him 
shall  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting"  life." 

But  vou  mav  sav,  I  believe  in  the  Savior, 


LECTURES.  273 

— that  is,  I  believe  there  was  such  a  person, 
and  I  never  raised  the  question  but  that  he 
performed  the  miracles  ascribed  to  him,  or 
that  he  was  the  Son  of  God. 

I  would  ask.  Have  you  ever  felt  a  deep 
conviction  —  a  conviction  akin  to  knowledg-e 
itself — that  God  has,  for  Christ's  sake  for- 
given you  all  your  sins?  If  not,  perhaps 
then  you  have  only  believed  of  the  Savior, 
and  not  /;/  him,  as  the  condition  requires  ; 
for  there  is  a  most  decided  difference  be- 
tween the  two  ways  of  believing*. 

To  illustrate  this,  suppose  you  were  suf- 
fering- from  some  disease  which  baffled  the 
skill  of  your  family  physician,  and  he  would 
advise  you  to  employ  a  skilled  specialist  in 
a  neig-hboring-  city.  Well  now!  you  would 
believe  (9/ that  other  physician  —  that  there 
was  such  a  person,  because  you  had  been  so 
credibly  informed  of  him;  and  you  would 
not  dispute  the  medical  skill  your  physician 
ascribed  to  him;  but  you  would  not  believe 
in  him  fully,  would  you,  till  he  had  cured 
yoii  f  Then  you  would  believe  in  him  with 
all  the  fervor  of  a  gfrateful  heart. 


274  LECTURES. 

And  how  would  you  be  cured;  by  simply 
believing-  that  there  was  such  a  physician, 
and  that  he  did  cure  cases  similar  to  yours? 
Or  by  going"  to  him,  and  asking*  him  to  exer- 
cise his  professional  skill  in  your  behalf? 

This  is  just  what  you  must  do  to  acquire 
that  belief  in  the  Savior  which  w^ill  g-ive  you 
a  passport  to  eternal  life  and  happiness  be- 
yond the  g^rave  —  you  must  come  to  him  and 
be  morally  and  spiritually  healed  ! 

Then  why  not  come  —  his  invitation  is  so 
cordial  and  assuring'?  He  says  "Come  unto 
me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden, 
and  I  will  gfive  you  rest.  Ask,  and  it  shall 
be  gfiven  you;  seek,  and  ye  shall  find;  knock 
and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you." 

But  why  come  to  Christ?  Why  not  carry 
our  petitions  direct  to  the  Father?  Because 
Christ,  the  divine  representative  of  the  Fa- 
ther distinctly  says:  "I  am  the  way  and  the 
truth  and  the  life:  no  man  comet h  unto  the 
Father,  t)ut  by  Me!'" 

And  how  much  is  the  human  heart  like 
this,  after  all !  We  will  suppose  you  had  a 
son  who  disobedientlv  wandered  awav  from 


LECTURES.  275 

you,  and  became  so  lost  and  sunken  in  mor- 
al depravity  and  shame,  that  in  your  deep 
disappointment  and  sorrowful  resentment, 
you  disowned  and  disinherited  him:  but  as 
the  years  roll  by,  and  the  first  sharp  pangs 
of  your  g-reat  grief  become  softened  into  a 
sad  memory,  your  parental  heart  yearns  for 
that  boy,  who  has  never  been  out  of  3^our 
mind  for  a  sing'le  day;  and  you  resolve  to 
send  a  friend  out  after  him. 

In  due  time  your  messenger  reaches  the 
boy,  and  informs  him  that  you  desire  his  re- 
turn with  the  messenger,  that  you  may  for- 
give, and  restore  him  to  family  and  friends. 
But  suppose  that  boy  should  reply.  No  Sir! 
I'll  not  go  with  yon;  if  Father  wants  to 
forgive  me,  he  must  come  to  me  himself  ! 

Whose  fault  would  it  be  if  that  insolent 
and  wicked  son  remained  outside  the  family 
fold  forever?  Or  whose  fault  would  it  be  if 
a  condemned  criminal  perished,  who  on  be- 
ing assured  of  a  full  pardon  if  he  would  but 
petition  the  Governor  of  his  state,  replied — 
No  Sir!  I'll  ask  pardon  of  no  one  but  the 
hiofhest  official  in  the  land  —  the  President 


276  IvECTURES. 

himself!  And,  my  friends,  whose  fault  will 
it  be  if  we  likewise  perish,  if  we  persist  in 
rejecting-  this  natural,  reasonable,  and  easy 
condition  of  our  redemption? 

But  some  one  may  truthfully  say,  I  have 
always  tried  to  do  right  —  have  been  honest, 
industrious,  peaiceable  and  charitable;  and 
I  think  my  daily  walk  will  compare  favor- 
ably with  that  of  a  g-reat  many  Christians 
with  whom  I  am  acquainted  ! 

My  friend  !  your  course  is  certainly  wor- 
thy of  the  highest  praise;  and  I  believe  that 
somehow  and  somewhere  in  God's  just  prov- 
idence, you  will  surely  receive  your  reward. 
But  how  could  a  few  years  —  ten,  twenty, 
forty,  or  even  eighty  years  of  good  conduct 
on  your  '^?irt,  purchase  coid  pay  for  millions 
and  millions  without  end  of  years  of  eternal 
life  and  peace  and  rest  and  joy?  Why!  that 
would  be  a  very  unequal  business  transac- 
tion, would  it  not? 

No,  my  friends!  eternal  life  cannot  be 
earned  or  purchased;  but  it  is  just  what 
the  Gospel  declares  it  to  be  —  the  Free  Gift 
of  God,  to  every  one  that  bclieveth. 


LECTURES.  277 

If  it  were  not  so,  what  hope  would  the 
ag-ed  who  had  renounced  their  sins  have  of 
earning-  it,  as  compared  with  those  who  set 
out  for  the  prize  in  the  morning"  of  life  ? 

The  Savior  very  clearly  illustrates  this  in 
his  parable  of  the  laborers  in  the  vineyard; 
in  which  you  will  recollect  that  those  who 
beg-an  at  the  eleventh  hour,  were  rewarded 
the  same  as  those  who  had  borne  the  bur- 
den and  heat  of  the  day. 

And  now,  are  v^e  ready  for  the  question  : 
What  is  the  first  step  —  what  must  I  do,  or 
how  must  I  beg-in,  to  attain  to  that  belief 
w^hich  leads  to  life  eternal  ? 

My  friends  !  I  trust  you  will  pardon  me  if 
I  g-ive  you  my  own  experience  on  this  point 
of  inquiry,  because  when  I  speak  of  that,  I 
know  whereof  I  affirm;  and  it  cannot  then 
be  said  of  me,  that  I  am  dependent  on  the 
testimony  of  others : 

When  in  my  twentieth  year,  in  possession 
of  a  fair  education  for  my  years,  with  some 
knowledg^e  of  the  Bible,  and  with  encourag-- 
ing-  worldly  prospects,  I  became  impressed 
with  a  sense  of  my  duty  to  God,  and  with  a 


278  LECTURES. 

desire  to  g-ain  his  pardon  and  favor.  It  was 
not  in  time  of  a  revival,  or  of  any  special 
relig-ious  interest  in  the  locality  where  I  re- 
sided, so  my  frame  of  mind  could  not  be  at- 
tributed to  excitement  or  urgent  appeal;  but 
in  the  calm  and  quiet  of  my  own  peaceful 
boyhood  home,  I  confronted  the  great  prob- 
lem— "What  must  I  do  to  be  saved?" 

I  began  w^itli  earnestly  and  attentively 
reading  the  New  Testament;  the  readings 
being  later  accompanied  by  prayer — though 
always  to  the  Father,  without  reference  to 
the  Son.  Not  that  I  denied  Christ's  person- 
ality nor  his  divine  mission  —  No!  I  believed 
o/the  Savior  and  w^hat  w^as  recorded  of  him, 
just  as  I  believed  of  G-eorge  Washington  or 
Benjamin  Franklin;  and  I  honestly  thought 
that  really  constituted  all  the  belief  in  the 
Savior  required. 

Each  day  I  grew  more  earnest  in  my  de- 
votions and  scriptural  readings,  each  day 
more  sad  and  abstracted;  for  no  light  yet 
penetrated  the  overhanging  darkness  —  all 
w^as  heaviness  and  gloom.  This  continued 
for  two  or  three  wxeks,  till  one  Sabbath  dav 


THE    LITTLE    DISTRICT    SCHOOL-HOUSE. 


LECTURES.  279 

I  went  to  rclig-ious  services  in  our  little  dis- 
trict school-house,  up  aniong*  the  g-reen  hills 
of  Central  New  York. 

The  officiating"  clerg-yman  was  not  one  of 
the  hig'h-cultured  pulpit  orators  of  the  day; 
he  indulg'ed  in  no  g^rand  flig'hts  of  eloquence 
nor  fine  figfures  of  rhetoric  —  his  sentences 
may  not  all  have  been  gframmatical ;  but  he 
knew  the  "Old,  Old  Story!"  He  had  sat  at 
the  feet  of  Jesus,  and  had  learned  of  him  ! 
And  as  he  earnestly  portrayed  Christ's  per- 
sonality, divine  mission,  and  present  atti- 
tude, standing*  at  the  rig-ht  hand  of  God, 
making"  intercession  for  us  as  our  mediator, 
advocate,  and  Great  Hig"h  Priest,  and  that 
throug"h  him  must  our  petitions  to  the  Fa- 
ther be  made, — as  he  pictured  this,  a  new 
conception  of  Christ's  character  and  office 
dawned  on  me;  and  on  reaching"  home  I  at 
once  retired  to  my  room,  and  on  bended  knee 
fervently  prayed  God,  for  Chrisf  s  sake,  to 
forg"ive  my  sins. 

And  then  the  g"lad  lig"ht  came  —  rig-ht  then 
and  there,  just  as  the  Savior  told  Nicodemus 
that  it  would  come — "As  the  wind  bloweth 


280  LECTURES. 

where  it  listeth,  and  thou  hearest  the  sound 
thereof,  but  canst  not  tell  whence  it  cometh 
and  whither  it  g-oeth,  so  is  every  one  that  is 
horn  of  the  Spirit."  And  in  this  age  of  free 
thoug-ht,  liberal  Christianity,  and  trying  to 
get  to  Heaven  by  climbing  up  some  other 
way,  I  ^^  ish  to  place  myself  on  record  as 
saying-  that  Christian  conversion,  as  defined 
in  the  New  Testament,  is  a  g-lorious  reality, 
and  if  you  would  gain  the  high  and  beauti- 
ful Heaven,  do  not  rest  till  you  have  experi- 
enced it,  whether  in  the  church,  or  out! 

As  I  arose  from  prayer  on  that  eventful 
Sabbath  day,  I  knew  just  as  wxll  that  I  was 
forgiven,  and  had  passed  from  darkness  to 
light,  as  the  g-lad  prisoner  knows  that  he  is 
free,  when  with  the  Governor's  pardon  in 
his  hand,  he  steps  forth  from  his  gloomy  cell 
into  God's  free  air  and  sunlig-ht;  but  being 
of  a  somewhat  retiring  and  bashful  temper- 
ament, I  reasoned  to  myself, — Now  I  have 
this  "Pearl  of  great  price,"  I  can  hide  it  in 
my  bosom,  and  the  world  and  my  young  as- 
sociates need  not  know  what  God  has  done 
for  me. You  see  the  work  was  not  quite 


OUR    UNION    CHURCH. 


LECTURES.  281 

completed  yet;  but  as  I  continued  in  prayer 
throug*h  the  week,  g-radually  that  reserve 
g'ave  way,  and  before  the  week  was  ended 
I  was  ready  and  willing"  and  anxious  to  con- 
fess Christ  before  the  world,  thoug-h  all  the 
world  should  forsake  me.  And  this  1  did  on 
the  following*  Sabbath  in  our  union  church, 
triumphantly  and  without  fear,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  a  larg-e  cong'reg'ation. 

And  in  the  days  immediately  following*,  I 
experienced  a  sense  of  calm  security  and 
restfulness  and  lig-ht-heartedness  which  I 
had  never  felt  before.  O,  I  could  laug'h  then! 
The  g-loom  was  all  dispelled,  and  the  beau- 
tiful Heaven  seemed  just  a  little  overhead; 
while  the  difficult  passag-es  of  the  Bible  all 
seemed  cleared  up,  and  a  consistency  and  a 
harmony  ran  throug-h  the  whole,  which  the 
discord  of  sectarian  strife  and  the  teaching's 
of  the  'hig-her  criticism'  have  never  yet  been 
able  to  disturb.  And  thoug-h  I  have  since, 
at  times,  wandered  far,  far  from  the  path  in 
which  I  first  set  out,  and  have  said  and  done 
many  foolish  and  wicked  thing's,  yet  thro' 
all  these  vears  God  has  not  forsaken  me, 


282  LECTURES. 

and  I  truly  feel  that  I  am  one  more  example 
of  his  patience  and  long--sufferino-  with  them 
that  believe. 

And  now,  my  friends!  will  you  accept 
the  riches  of  God's  g"race  on  these  liberal 
and  easy  terms?  If  you  are  timid  and  bash- 
ful, as  I  was,  and  have  a  dread  of  arising- 
to  express  your  determination  in  public,  be 
not  in  the  least  discouraged;  but  in  the  re- 
tirement of  your  own  homes  carefully  study 
the  Scriptures  —  read  attentively  the  words 
of  promise  and  instruction  uttered  by  our 
Savior,  as  found  recorded  in  the  first  four 
books  of  the  New  Testament,  and  pray  to 
your  Heavenly  Father!  asking"  all  thing-s  in 
the  name  of  the  Savior,  w^ho  stands  ready 
to  intercede  for  you. 

Be  earnest  and  persevering-,  and  the  g-lo- 
rious  lig"ht  wall  surely  come;  and  you  will 
have  courag-e  and  confidence  then — you  will 
not  shrink  from  coming*  to  the  church  or  to 
the  prayer-meeting-  and  confessing-  Christ 
before  men,  as  he  reasonably  requires;  that 
he  may  also  confess  you  before  his  Father  in 
Heaven.      And  thoug-h   worldly  prosperity 


LECTURES.  283 


may  not  directly  follow,  yet  God  will  give 
you  Christian  fortitude  to  bear  those  ills  of 
life  which  are  common  to  all. 

You  will  not  dread  to  g-row  old  then;  but 
each  trace  of  advancing-  years,  each  monitor 
of  life's  waning  day,  will  be  to  you  a  mark 
of  progress  toward  your  Heavenly  heritage; 
and  if  sorrow  and  affliction  come,  you  will 
be  sustained  by  the  reflection  that  Christ 
said  to  his  own  beloved  disciples,  "For  in 
the  world  ye  shall  have  tribulation,  but  be 
of  good  cheer— I  have  overcome  the  world." 
St,  John,  i6  :  jj.  And  that  he  also  said, 
"He  that  shall  endure  unto  the  end,  the 
same  shall  be  saved  !"     Matt,  24  :  ij, 

O,  Christian  soldier  and  cross-bearer!  — 
mid  the  tumult  of  daily  life,  the  assaults  of 
skepticism,  the  clash  of  creeds, — the  fall  of 
dynasties  and  the  wreck  of  worlds  !  —  keep 
your  eye  ever  on  this  bright  beacon-light, — 
"He  that  shall  endure  unto  the  end,  the 
same  shall  be  saved  !" 

And  from  what  shall  we  be  saved  ?  From 
all  further  poverty  and  toil,  sickness  sorrow 
and  death;  for  there  shall  be  no  more  death 


284  LECTURES. 

there  !  From  the  snubs  and  extortions  and 
overreachinofs  of  the  proud  and  sellish  and 
avaricious,  for  they  will  not  be  there;  —  no 
more  cold  winter's  storms  nor  sultry  sum- 
mer's heat,  but  one  perpetual  Spring-time 
of  life  and  light,  peace  and  plenty,  health 
and  rest  and  joy;  —  reunion  with  the  dear 
ones,  and  communion  with  the  truly  good 
and  great  from  every  Age  and  Clime,  in  a 
World  vjithoiit  end — FoREVER  ! 

I  had  purposed  ending  here,  but  one  more 
thought  is  suggested  by  attendant  circum- 
stances, w  hich  unexpressed,  would  leave  my 

effort  altogether  incomplete: My  words 

have  thus  far  been  addressed  more  particu- 
larly to  the  mature,  the  middle-aged,  and  to 
those  well  advanced  in  life;  but  I  see  before 
me  many  of  the  young,  the  hopeful  and  the 
happy  —  those  to  whom  life  still  seems,  as 
it  were,  an  unwritten  poem,  and  the  future 
a  blissful  dream. 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  willingly  say  aught 
that  would  in  the  slightest  measure  detract 
from  the  innocent  pleasures  of  Youth,  but 
as  the  firm  friend  of,  and  sympathizer  with 


LECTURES.  285 

the  young-,  I  would  commend  to  each  of  3^ou, 
my  young-  friends!  those  words  of  approved 
wisdom — "Remember  now  thy  Creator,  in 
the  days  of  thy  youth:"  ,  assuring-  you  there 
is  no  worthy  ambition  but  that  a  true  Chris- 
tian faith  elevates  and  ennobles,  no  proper 
pleasure  but  that  it  purifies  and  enhances, 
no  life  but  that  it  beautifies  and  blesses, — 
no  death  but  that  it  may  divest  of  its  g-loom, 
and  transform  the  passag-e  across  the  dark 
waters  into  a  triumphal  entry  throug-h  the 
Gate  Beautiful,  to  the  Beautiful  Beyond. 

And  while  we  have  full  assurance  that 
God  will  in  no  wise  reject  the  truly  contrite 
heart,  even  thoug-h  that  heart  contain  but 
the  dreg's  of  a  wasted  and  a  misspent  life, 
yet  O!  how  like  sweet  incense  must  rise  to 
the  Throne  of  Grace  the  offering-  of  one  of 
these  young-  and  joyous  hearts,  to  whom  the 
world  offers  so  much,  yet  willing-  to  forsake 
all,  if  need  be,  for  the  hig-her,  happier,  and 
better  Christ-life. 

Then  pardon  me  if  I  urg-e  upon  you  the 
importance  of  attending-  to  this  matter  while 
the  heart  is  still  tender  and  susceptible,  and 


286  LECTURES. 

ere  the  evil  days  come,  when  in  bitterness 
and  sorrow  despondently  you  say,  "I  have 
no  pleasure  in  them!"  And  that  the  God 
of  g-race  and  peace  and  love  may  be  with 
you  always,  and  bless  your  lives  and  g-uide 
your  footsteps,  and  at  last  bring-  you  into 
his  Heavenly  Rest,  is  the  sincere  prayer  of 
your  humble  servant. 


CHAPTER    X. 


RELIGIOUS   FAITH. 


As  I  have  been  disposed  to  examine  and 
consider  and  decide  for  myself,  in  pursuing* 
those  sciences  pertaining*  to  the  material,  so 
I  have  held  myself  equally  independent  in 
studying*  and  interpreting*  that  Revelation 
which  treats  of  thing's  spiritual. 

While  believing-  implicitly  in  the  truth 
and  inspiration  of  the  Bible,  yet  my  under- 
standing* of  some  portions  of  it  may  differ 
quite  materially  from  that  of  many  people 
whose  faith  in  the  Old  Book  is  nevertheless 
as  perfect  as  mine  could  possibly  be;  and  it 
was,  until  recently,  my  determination  never 
to  g*ive  my  peculiar  relig*ious  views  to  the 
public,  lest  they  mig*ht  tend  to  unsettle  the 
faith  of  any  who  have  accepted  some  wor- 
thy established  creed. 

But  since  coming-  in  contact  with  the  so- 


288  RELIGIOUS   FAITH. 

called  "hig-her  criticism,"  the  question  has 
very  forcibly  presented  itself  to  my  mind,  if 
the  extreme  views  of  the  Orthodox  faith  re- 
specting" everlasting-  punishment  etc.  ,  may 
not  have  incited  this  Bible  revolt,  which  we 
are  told  numbers  in  its  ranks  so  many  who 
have  been  sealed  and  sanctified  for  its  de- 
fense. Hence  my  decision  to  undertake  an 
honest  and  unbiased  discussion  of  those  vital 
principles  which  g-ive  form  to  the  Christian 
faith;  admitting"  however,  that  I  believe  we 
may  without 'prejudice  differ  in  minor  par- 
ticulars, and  that  it  may  not  have  been  the 
Divine  -plan  to  have  all  men  interpret  the 
Scriptures  strictly  alike. 

If,  for  instance,  the  Bible  had  been  writ- 
ten so  plainly,  and  every  proposition  made 
so  transparent  that  a  sing'le  reading-  would 
satisfy,  and  convey  the  same  impressions  to 
every  reader,  men  would  soon  have  laid  it 
aside,  as  being-  of  no  farther  use  to  them, 
and  it  would  long-  ag'o  have  become  an  obso- 
lete and  forg-otten  book.  But  it  is  wisely  so 
constituted  that  each  new  reading-  discovers 
new"  and  interestino-  truths;    and  while  true 


RELIGIOUS   FAITH.  289 

believers  accept  in  common  its  fundamental 
precepts,  they  may  yet  differ  sufficiently  in 
the  lesser  matters  of  faith  to  maintain  that 
friendly  controversy  which  keeps  it  always 
before  the  people. 

It  is  estimated  that  the  active  life  of  the 
averag*e  book  is  no  more  than  ten  years,  and 
that  but  very  few  survive  a  century;  yet  to 
this  divinely  wise  feature  of  their  composi- 
tion is  perhaps  due  the  survival  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures  through  all  the  years  of  history, 
whose  steady  flight  has  witnessed  the  birth 
triumph  and  decay  of  the  grandest  w^orks 
of  art,  literature  and  science;  the  rise  and 
fall  of  empires, — while  the  glorious  onward 
march  of  the  Gospel  of  Peace  has  encircled 
the  Globe. 

Up  to  the  time  of  my  conversion  to  Chris- 
tianity, my  religious  training*  had  been  pure- 
ly Orthodox,  and  I  had  never  for  a  moment 
questioned  the  correctness  of  its  teachings 
respecting  the  absolute  immortality  of  the 
soul  —  that  for  weal  or  woe  the  soul  of  man 
shall  live  on  and  on,  through  the  countless 
ages  of  eternity.     But  with  the  new  light 


290  RELIGIOUS   FAITH. 

and  interest  gained  from  that  conversion,  I 
studied  the  Scriptures,  not  for  the  purpose 
of  fortifying"  any  preconceived  opinions  of 
my  own,  nor  any  accepted  creed, —  I  sought 
for  Truth!  and  the  truth  only. 

And  now,  at  the  risk  of  being'  charged 
with  heresy,  I  must  confess  that  I  found  no 
\\ords  in  the  Old  Testament  or  the  New, 
declaring',  or  directly  implying  that  the  soul 
of  man  is  absolutely  immortal. 

Though  we  find  abundant  promise  that 
they  who  have  accepted  the  Gospel  condi- 
tions of  man's  redemption,  and  manifest  the 
same  in  their  daily  walk,  are  heirs  of  Heav- 
en and  a  blest  immortality,  yet  all  passages 
referring  to  future  punishment,  if  properly 
analyzed,  tend  to  show  that  the  unrepentant 
\Aicked,  vjith  a  fezv  exceptions,  shall  finally 
die:  *'Por  the  wages  of  sin  is  death." 

This  is  also  evinced  in  the  words  of  our 
Savior — "For  Crod  so  loved  the  world  that 
he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son,  that  whoso- 
ever believe th  in  him  should  not  f>erish,  but 
have  everlasting  life."  JoIdi,  j  :  /6.  These 
words   plainly   imply   that   the   unbelieving 


RELIGIOUS   FAITH.  291 

shall  perish:  and  we  find  that  the  definition 
of  the  word,  perish,  is  to  die,  to  decay;  and 
not  to  live  in  torment. 

But  I  am  aware  that  the  Bible  contains 
several  other  passag^es  which  are  commonly 
interpreted  as  being-  declarations  of  eternal 
punishment  to  the  wicked.  I  will  not  under- 
take to  review  them  all,  but  will  take  up  a 
few  of  those  which  appear  most  positive  and 
forcible  in  expression: 

In  the  9th  chapter  of  Mark's  Gospel  we 
find  several  times  repeated  the  often  quoted 
words,  "Where  their  worm  dieth  not,  and 
the  fire  is  not  quenched!"  which  passag^e  is 
by  many  supposed  to  imply  that  the  fire  and 
the  condemned  soul,  both  exist  forever;  the 
one  always  tormenting-  the  other. 

But  if  we  analyze  this  sentence,  we  will 
see  at  once  that  the  two  words,  worm  and 
fire,  are  simply  a  repetition  of  terms,  both 
meaning-  that  which  destroys;  fire  being-  re- 
ferred to.  throug-hout  the  Bible,  and  at  all 
times  recog-nized  as  the  g-reat  destructive 
element,  and  the  term,  worm,  being-  used  in 
the  same  scriptural  sense.    For  example,  in 


292  RELIGIOUS   FAITH. 

the  book  of  Joel,  2  : 25— "And  I  will  restore 
to  you  the  years  that  the  locust  hath  eaten, 
the  canker-worm  and  the  caterpillar,  and 
the  palmer- worm,  my  great  army  which  I 
have  sent  among-  you."  And  again  in  Job, 
19  :26 — "And  though  after  my  skin,  worms 
destroy  this  body,  yet  in  my  flesh  shall  I 
see  God!" 

The  book  of  Revelation  also  contains  some 
forcible  expressions  of  this  character;  con- 
spicuously among-  these  being  Rev.  14  :11  — 
"And  the  smoke  of  their  torment  ascendeth 
up  for  ever  and  ever:  and  they  have  no  rest 
day  nor  night  who  worship  the  beast  and 
his  imag-e,  and  whosoever  receiveth  the  mark 
of  his  name." 

This  passage,  strong  and  conclusive  as  it 
may  at  first  appear,  and  is  by  many  regard- 
ed, does  not  say  that  the  unfortunate  ones 
referred  to  coutinuc  in  torment;  it  sa3^s  that 
the  smoke  of  their  torment — of  the  firey  me- 
dium of  their  destruction,  ascends  forever; 
and  this  for  a  reason  considered  later. 

The  latter  clause  of  the  passage  quoted 
does  however  appear  to  imply  a  eoutimied 


RELIGIOUS   FAITH.  293 

unrest ;  but  as  the  verb  employed  in  it  has 
the  form  of  the  present  tense  ('they  have  no 
rest,  etc.')  and  not  of  the  future  tense  (they 
shall  have  no  rest,)  the  lang-uage  would  ap- 
pear to  refer  rather  to  this  present  state,  as 
it  is  quite  unlike  the  form  of  expression  used 
in  Rev.  20  :  10,  which,  in  referring  to  an  end- 
less future,  employs  the  verb.  Shall  be! 

But  lest  this  should  not  be  conclusive,  let 
us  briefly  examine  two  more  passag-es  which 
appear  the  strong-est  in  their  denunciation  of 
sinners  of  anything-  found  in  the  Bible.  In 
Matt.  25:41,  we  find  these  words:  "Then 
shall  he  also  say  unto  them  on  the  left  hand. 
Depart  from  me  ye  cursed,  into  everlastinof 
fire  prepared  for  the  Devil  and  his  ang-els." 
Also  in  2d.  Thess.  1:9.  "Who  shall  be  pun- 
ished with  everlasting-  destruction,  from  the 
presence  of  the  Lord,  and  from  the  g-lory  of 
his  power." 

The  first  of  these  quotations,  positive  as 
it  may  sound,  does  not  imply  eternal  torture 
to  the  accursed  in  g-eneral,  unless  the  word 
prepared  refers  to  them,  as  many  carelessly 
construe  it;    but  if  we  examine  the  passag-e 


294  RELIGIOUS   FAITH. 

in  connection  with  others  in  the  Bible  which 
have  a  reference  to  it,  w^e  will  lind  that  the 
word  prepared  refers  to  the  fire,  and  not  to 
the  condemned,  and  it  mig-ht  properly  read 
thus — Depart  ye  cursed  into  that  fire  rchich 
is  prepared  for  the  Devil  and  his  angels. 

This  conclusion  is  sustained  by  the  words 
of  the  second  quotation,  in  which  the  ever- 
lasting' fire  is  called  "everlasting-  destruc- 
tion;" and  the  lost  souls  w^ho  have  a  part  in 
it  must  necessarily  be  destroyed;  which,  as 
repeatedly  declared  in  the  20th.  and  21st. 
chapts.  of  Rev.   "Is  the  second  death." 

The  words  of  our  Savior,  as  recorded  in 
Matt.  10  :28,  also  clearly  imply  that  the  soul 
of  man  is  not  absolutely  immortal,  and  that 
Hell  is  the  appointed  place  for  the  destruc- 
tion of  lost  souls:  the  passag-e  reads  thus — 
"Fear  not  them  that  kill  the  body,  but  can- 
not kill  the  soul;  but  rather  fear  him  who  is 
able  to  destroy  both  soul  and  body  in  Hell." 

But  \yhy  then  is  that  place  of  destruction 
made  everlasting-,  if  after  the  final  day  of 
judg-ment,  the  condemned  are  destroyed  ?  A 
few  pag"es  back,  I  referred  to  some  excep- 


RELIGIOUS   FAITH.  295 

tions  apparently  made,  in  which  the  second 
death  bring-s  no  relief.  Those  exceptions 
are  clearly  indicated  by  the  words  found  in 
Rev.  20  :  10—' 'And  the  Devil  that  deceived 
them  was  cast  into  the  lake  of  fire  and  brim- 
stone, w^here  the  beast  and  the  false  prophet 
are,  and  shall  be  tormented  day  and  nig-ht, 
for  ever  and  ever." 

In  Rev.  19:19,20,21,  though  a  different 
fig'ure  of  expression  is  used,  yet  it  not  only 
confirms  the  foreg^oing*  quotation,  but  plain- 
ly marks  the  distinction  made  between  those 
arch  offenders  and  the  rank  and  file  of  sin- 
ners.    It  reads  thus  : 

"And  I  saw^  the  beast  and  the  king's  of 
the  earth,  and  their  armies  g-athered  tog-eth- 
er to  make  w^ar  agfainst  Him  that  sat  on  the 
horse,  and  ag-ainst  His  army. 

"And  the  beast  was  taken,  and  with  him 
the  false  prophet  that  wroug-ht  miracles  be- 
fore him,  w^ith  which  he  deceived  them  that 
had  received  the  mark  of  the  beast,  and  them 
that  worshiped  his  imag^e.  These  both  w^ere 
cast  alive  into  a  lake  of  fire  burning*  with 
brimstone. 


296  REIvIGIOUS   FAITH. 

"And  the  remnant  were  slain  \\  ith  the 
sword  of  Him  that  sat  upon  the  horse,  which 
sword  proceeded  out  of  His  mouth;  and  all 
the  fowls  were  filled  with  their  flesh." 

AN   INTERMEDIATE    STATE. 

That  there  is  an  intermediate  state,  in 
which  the  souls  of  mankind  have  either  a 
conscious,  or  an  unconscious  existence,  from 
the  time  of  departing*  this  earthly  life,  till 
the  final  resurrection,  is  clearly  indicated 
by  many  passages  of  Scripture,  w^hile  none 
seem  to  plainly  refute  it. 

When  the  thief  on  the  cross  spake  in  the 
Savior's  defense,  and  prayed  for  his  remem- 
brance when  he  should  come  into  his  king-- 
dom,  our  Savior  gfraciously  replied,  "to-day 
shalt  thou  be  with  me  in  Paradise!''  Luke 
2j  :  4J,  But  we  read  in  the  first  chapter  of 
the  book  of  Acts,  that  it  was  forty  days  be- 
fore Christ  ascended  to  Heaven;  therefore 
the  Paradise  he  referred  to  could  not  have 
been  the  hig"h  Heaven  wherein  the  Father 
and  his  holy  ang-els  dwell. 

We  also  read  in  Acts,  2  :34 — "For  David 


RELIGIOUS    FAITH.  297 

is  not  ascended  into  the  Heavens:"  and  in 
John,  3  :  13,  Christ  himself  says,  "And  no 
man  hath  ascended  up  to  Heaven,  but  he 
that  came  down  from  Heaven,  even  the  Son 
of  man  which  is  in  Heaven."  And  ag^ain  in 
1st. Cor.  15:20,  St.  Paul  says,  "But  now  is 
Christ  risen  from  the  dead,  and  become  the 
Jirst fruits  of  them  that  slept." 

These  passag-es,  and  several  others  of  a 
like  character,  imply  that  up  to  the  time  of 
the  Savior's  advent  no  man  had  yet  ascend- 
ed to  the  hig'h  Heaven;  and  that  until  the 
final  resurrection,  which  will  be  heralded 
by  his  second  coming*,  none  will  so  ascend, 
is  manifested  by  the  Savior's  own  words  in 
Matthew,  16  :27 — "For  the  Son  of  man  will 
come  in  the  gflory  of  his  Father,  with  the 
ang*els;  and  the)i  he  shall  reward  every  man 
according-  to  his  works." 

Also  in  St.  John,  5  :  28,29— "Marvel  not 
at  this,  for  the  hour  is  coming-,  in  the  which 
all  that  are  in  their  g-raves  shall  hear  his 
voice,  and  shall  come  forth;  they  that  have 
done  g"ood,  unto  the  resurrection  of  life;  and 
they  that  have  done  evil,  unto  the  resurrec- 


298  RELIGIOUS   FAITH. 

tion  of  damnation."  (that  is,  shall  be  raised 
or  resurrected  to  meet  condemnatory  judg- 
ment). Likewise  in  Thess.  4  :  16,  Paul  says, 
"For  the  Lord  himself  shall  descend  from 
Heaven  with  a  shout,  with  the  voice  of  the 
archangel,  and  with  the  trump  of  God;  and 
the  dead  in  Christ  shall  rise  first." 

As  many  ag-es  have  already  passed  since 
Christ's  departure  from  this  earth,  and  we 
know  not  how  many  more  may  ensue  before 
his  second  coming',  when  all  shall  rise  and 
appear  before  the  judgment  bar  of  God,  a 
consideration  of  how  that  period  of  existence 
is  employed  by  those  who  have  departed  this 
life,  is  a  study  of  particular  interest. 

Many  expressions  throughout  ilie  Bible 
would  lead  us  to  infer  that  the  departed  may 
repose  in  that  unconscious  state  called  slccf> 
till  the  resurrection  morn,  since  that  term 
is  freely  employed  in  the  Scriptures  to  de- 
scribe their  changed  existence.  And  \\  hile 
that  may  be  true  of  the  majority,  3^et  the 
inspired  teacher  Paul,  though  appearing  to 
hold  this  view,  in  part,  as  is  shown  by  his 
words  in  1st.  Cor.  15  :  51 ,  vet  makes  a  most 


RELIGIOUS'  FAITH.  299 

decided  exception.  The  passag-e  reads  thus  : 
"Behold,  I  show  you  a  mystery:  we  shall 
not  all  sleep,  but  we  shall  all  be  chang*ed." 
These  words  appear  to  imply  plainly,  that 
while  many  vjill  sleep,  yet  others  will  not. 

This  exception  is  in  perfect  accord  \^  ith 
the  Savior's  words  recorded  in  John,  11  \%^, 
which  read,  "And  whosoever  liveth  and  be- 
lie veth  in  me,  shall  never  die  !" 

I  interpret  this  clause  as  meaning-  that 
they  who  believe  in  the  Savior  in  this  life, 
and  manifest  their  faith  by  their  works,  will 
at  once,  on  leaving-  the  earthly  sphere,  enter 
into  a  conscious  and  blessed  intermediate 
state;  or  in  the  lang-uag-e  of  the  Savior,  shall 
never  die.  This  I  believe  to  be  the  First 
Resurrection,  spoken  of  in  Revelation,  20  :6, 
— "Blessed  and  holy  is  he  that  hath  part  in 
the  first  resurrection:  on  such,  the  second 
death  hath  no  power." 

But  does  the  exception  apply  only  to  the 
Lord's  redeemed?  There  is  introduced  into 
the  16th  chap,  of  Luke's  Gospel  a  narrative 
from  the  Savior's  own  lips,  which  appears 
emphasized  by  standing-  alone;    apparently 


300  RELIGIOUS   FAITH. 

having-  no  connection  with  the  preceding-  por- 
tion of  the  chapter;  and  whether  g-iv^en  as  a 
parable,  or  as  a  historic  fact,  men  have  been 
unable  to  decide.  But  as  it  came  from  the 
lips  of  One  who  never  spake  an  idle  w^ord, 
and  whose  every  expression  was  fraug-ht 
with  a  purpose,  we  must  conclude  that  it 
was  g-iven  for  our  instruction. 

In  this  narrative,  the  miserable  and  ema- 
ciated beg-gfar,  Lazarus,  is  represented  as 
lying'  at  the  rich  man's  gate,  and  desiring- 
to  be  fed  with  the  crumbs  which  fell  from 
his  table:  that  in  time  the  begfg-ar  died,  and 
was  carried  by  the  ang-els  into  Abraham's 
bosom. 

The  rich  man  also  died,  and  was  buried; 
and  in  Hell  he  lifted  up  his  eyes,  being-  in 
torment;  and  seeing-  Abraham  afar  off  and 
Lazarus  in  his  bosom,  he  implored  Father 
Abraham  to  send  Lazarus  to  relieve  him  in 
his  torment. 

But  Abraham  replied,  "Son!  remember 
that  thou  in  thy  lifetime  receivedst  thy  g-ood 
thing's,  and  likewise  Lazarus  evil  thing-s  ; 
but  now  he  is  comforted,  and  thou  art  tor- 


RELIGIOUS   FAITH.  301 

mentcd.  And  besides  all  this,  between  us 
and  you  there  is  a  great  g-ulf  fixed,  so  that 
they  w  ho  would  pass  from  hence  to  you,  can- 
not; neither  can  they  pass  to  us  that  would 
come  from  thence." 

The  inference  drawn  from  this  picture  is 
that,  aside  from  the  conditions  already  con- 
sidered in  the  intermediate  state,  it  may  also 
be  the  place  where  the  wrongfs  of  this  world 
are  in  a  measure  righted;  and  that  they  who 
have  known  extreme  poverty  and  sufferino- 
here,  as  \\  ell  as  they  who,  by  inflicting-  such 
suffering-  on  others,  have  been  enabled  to 
fare  sumptuously,  shall  each  of  them  receive 
his  proper  reward;  while  the  two,  in  their 
changed  conditions,  are  separated  by  a  g-ulf 
more  exclusive  and  impassable  than  the  so- 
cial barrier  which  separates  them  here. 

This  inference  finds  further  support  in 
the  words  of  our  Savior,  as  recorded  in  the 
6th  chap,  of  St.  Luke,  the  21st  verse  reading- 
thus  :  "Blessed  are  ye  that  hunger  now;  for 
ye  shall  be  filled.  Blessed  are  ye  that  weep 
now;  for  ye  shall  laugh."  The  24th  verse 
also  reading- — "But  woe  unto  vou  that  are 


302  RELIGIOUS   FAITH. 

rich!  for  ye  have  received  your  consolation." 
Several  passag-es  of  Scripture  however 
confirm  my  belief  that  the  latter  quotation 
refers  only  to  those  rich  people  who  lead 
selfish  and  ung^odly  lives,  and  not  to  the  no- 
ble few  who  are  faithful  stewards  of  God's 
bounty. 

IMMORTALITY. 

Of  the  second,  and  final  death  of  the  unbe- 
lieving-, after  the  g-eneral  resurrection  and 
g^reat  judg-ment  day,  and  the  everlasting" 
punishment  of  Satan  and  the  false  prophets 
that  deceived  the  people,  enough  has  already 
been  said,  I  trust,  to  make  plain  my  opinion 
on  those  important  questions. 

But  when  I  come  to  write  of  the  unspeak- 
able g'lory  and  happiness  of  the  eternal  life 
awaiting-  those  who  will  be  found  worthy  to 
enter  the  pearly  g*ates  of  the  New  Jerusa- 
lem, I  feel  that  pen  and  brain  are  inadequate 
to  discuss  the  g-lowing*  descriptions  of  the 
inspired  writers.  And  I  can  only  conceive 
that  it  will  be  the  complete  g-ratifying-  and 
satisfving*  of  that  constant  long'ing'  for  some- 


RELIGIOUS   FAITH.  303 

thing-  better  and  liig-her  and  nobler,  which 
is  an  inseparable  part  of  the  normal  earthly 
life:  and  the  thought  that  it  will  he  forever 
should  render  lig-ht  and  insig-nificant  all  the 
sacrifice  to  g-ain  it  w^hich  we  are  called  upon 
to  make  in  this  life,  whose  duration,  as  com- 
pared with  eternity,  is  as  a  single  drop  to 
the  great  Ocean. 

In  conclusion  then,  I  most  reverently  com- 
mend to  every  unbeliever  the  words  of  prom- 
ise and  hope  uttered  by  our  Savior,  "He  that 
believeth  in  me  hath  everlasting-  life."  ,and 
to  every  believer,  his  words  of  comfort  and 
encourag-ement,  "He  that  shall  endure  unto 
the  end,  the  same  shall  be  saved!'' 

From  the  foreg-oing-  discussion  of  relig'- 
ious  faith,  I  deduce  the  following',  which  is — 

MY  ACCEPTED  CREED. 
I  believe  in  God  the  Father,  Creator  of 
Heaven  and  Earth;  in  Christ  the  Savior,  in 
his  divine  orig-in,  and  in  his  power  and  wil- 
lingfness  to  forg-ive  and  save  all  who  dili- 
g-ently  seek  him:    also  in  the   Holy  Spirit, 


304  RELIGIOUS   FAITH. 

which  the  Lord  sendeth  to  those  whom  he 
receiyeth. 

I  believe  in  an  intermediate  state  wherein 
all  souls  w^ait,  either  unconsciously,  or  in 
some  degree  of  happiness  or  unhappiness, 
the  General  Resurrection:  that  in  the  great 
Judgment  Day  the  conscious  existence  of  un- 
believers will  finally  end,  which  is  the  Sec- 
ond Death:  but  that  Satan  and  the  false 
prophets  will  live  under  God's  displeasure 
forever. 

I  believe  that  they  w^hose  names  are  found 
written  in  the  Book  of  Life  wnll  then  be  re- 
ceived into  a  blest  Immortality,  and  a  home 
in  the  Beautiful  Heaven  wherein  the  Father 
dwells;  there  to  live  in  peace  and  happiness 
forever.     . 


APOLOGIES, 

In  the  earlier  pag^es  of  this  volume  I  spoke 
of  my  failure  in  g-aining-  recog-nition  from 
the  publishers,  and  in  consequence  the  query 
will  arise  as  to  how  I  finally  g"ot  into  print. 

If  the  volume  were  a  better  production  of 
the  book-maker's  art,  that  query  would  re- 
main unanswered  by  me.  But  as  it  is,  I  feel 
that  I  owe  not  only  an  explanation,  but  an 
apolog-y  to  the  reader,  as  well,  for  the  im- 
perfections apparent  to  the  critical  eye. 

Lacking-  the  necessary  means,  and  being* 
persistently  denied  the  opportunity  to  earn 
means  sufficient  to  g-et  my  work  published,  I 
finally  resolved  to  turn  printer  myself;  and 
securing"  a  small  S18.  press  and  three  fonts 
of  type,  I  beg-an  without  any  instruction,  or 
previous  knowledge  of  the  printer's  trade. 


306  APOLOGIES. 

Thoug-h  by  continued  effort  I  in  time  ac- 
quired a  deg*ree  of  skill  at  the  case  and  the 
press,  yet  owing-  to  my  inexperience  and  my 
vision  being'  a  little  impaired  by  too  close  ap- 
plication, I  find  on  review  that  some  faults 
exist  — that  besides  imperfect  press  work, 
there  are  errors  typog-raphical,  and  perhaps 
g*rammatical  and  orthog^raphical,  as  well  as 
errors  of  taste  and  judg-ment  in  arrang-ing- 
matter;  and  for  all  these  I  most  humbly  and 
sincerely  apolog-ize. 

But  for  the  sentiments  expressed,  I  have 
no  apology  to  offer.  They  have  been  care- 
fully weig-hed  and  considered,  and  are  the 
result  of  years  of  observation,  study,  and 
investio-ation,  founded  on  an  unmistakable 
Christian  conversion,  and  I  am  willing-  to 
be  judg-ed  by  them. 

Thoug-h  the  sig-ns  of  the  times,  and  the 
history  of  past  efforts  in  the  cause  of  Truth 
tell  me  that  I  shall  hardly  hear  the  g-rateful 
"Well  done"  in  this  world  for  the  effort  I 
have  made,  and  though  I  have  no  great  and 
buoyant  hope  of  hearing-  it  in  the  world  to 
come,  yet  I  shall  live  hoping,  and  die  hoping 


MY    PRINTING    HOUSE. 


APOLOGIES.  307 

that  when  the  greater  works  of  men  are 
being-  reviewed,  and  Heaven's  arches  ring" 
with  the  g*lad  praises  of  those  w^ho  have 
been  more  liberally  endowed  and  favorably 
circumstanced,  then  He  in  whom  I  have 
believed,  and  whose  cause  of  Truth  I  have 
tried  to  serve,  will  offer  this  apolog-y  for 
me  : — "He  hath  done  what  he  could." 


THE  END. 


Date  Due 

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